


Requiem For A Dream

by dreamsaremadeofthis



Series: A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek Alternate Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Deserted planet, Eventual Spirk, F/M, First Time, M/M, Marooned, Minor Scientist Characters Death, Pon Farr, Some dialogue lines from Star Trek 2009, abandoned, shuttlecraft crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-23 08:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 39,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14930522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsaremadeofthis/pseuds/dreamsaremadeofthis
Summary: Are routine missions ever really routine in the Star Trek universe?Neither was this one, which began with First Officer Spock as mission commander of a landing party of five, and ended tragically with the survivors marooned on a deserted planet with nothing but questions as the Enterprise would not-or could not-answer their distress signals...”Kirk was good looking and suave and very self-assured in that brash, arrogant way leaders needed to be in order to make command decisions on the spot without second-guessing or self doubt. He was flirty and touchy, and I could tell he totally believed he could have anyone on board he wanted.”"Nothing could ever have prepared me for such a violent impact. We smashed into the ground hard, we bounced, we crashed again, we slashed through trees and gashed rocks, over and over, ripping away part of the aft…But I felt no pain with any of it. I wondered if I was already dead...""I gathered every ounce of strength I had and screamed out his name, 'SPOCK!'...I could barely squint through dizzy, unfocused eyes, but what I saw shook me to the core. Jagged metal had sliced through the port upper hull plate, lodging no more than one inch from Spock’s helmet..."





	1. What Dreams May Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> _Beautiful artwork created by and used by special permission of amazing artist, Mylochka_

I was so excited for the day of the costume party to arrive. These on-board diversions were always fun but for the most part uneventful, as crewmembers and officers alike stepped away from their 99% mundane work shift (interspersed with 1% high-intensity life-threatening crises) that _is_ deep space exploration.  
  
But had I known ahead of time how significant and memorable this one would end up being, I'm not sure I could have controlled my anticipation as my duty required. "Breathless ingenue" had absolutely _never_ been my thing. Honest. It was like I didn't even recognize myself.

Huh uh, no. Steady, level-headed, measured, patient— _that_ was me. Or at least who I'd always striven to be. After all, I was an engineer...an engineer hopelessly in love with our Vulcan first officer. Yes. I knew it really was _that_ hopeless.

I could never have dreamed that within a year, I would be pregnant with his son.  
  
I had finally settled on going as Little Bo Peep, from an ancient, obscure Earth nursery rhyme. My dress was white with lacy pinafore, topped off with a wide-brim straw hat banded by blue ribbon that kind of set off the turquoise ring around my hazel eyes. For sure, I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone duplicating either my costume or character, which always presented a challenge when working with such creative, imaginative people as I did.

Assigned to the greatest starship in the history of Starfleet, the _USS Enterprise_ , I smiled a lot in those days, barely believing my good fortune. I had worked so hard at my studies, devouring knowledge as quickly and thoroughly as possible. I had even invented a few systems that were being introduced throughout the fleet’s mining ships.

But all my fellow cadets from our graduating class at Starfleet Academy had worked just as hard, also impressing our superiors, so I was especially grateful to be appointed to the flagship of the Federation. I had entered service on board at the rank of ensign and been promoted to lieutenant as I entered my second year of duty.

I had lived and worked here for the past two years, which were the third and fourth of the Enterprise’s second five-year mission into deep space, and I had made some incredible friends. The brilliant, talented and gorgeous Lieutenant Commander Uhura, Dr. Chapel, and of course, Lieutenant Rand. They were incredible officers and such good friends. The girls and I were inseparable during most of our off-duty times.

All my dreams had come true, except one—I longed to someday love and be loved by someone, and part of me ached to have babies someday.

Of course I was okay if that never happened, even though I did love children and loved the idea of sharing my life with someone wonderful. I was already incredibly happy and fulfilled to be in my station on the ship, with great colleagues and friends.

A starship is full of amazing people—the brightest and bravest. So many accomplished and often even attractive officers. But work was work, and I had been leery of the possible pitfalls of dating my coworkers, much less becoming involved with one.

If all went well, it would be optimum.

If it fell apart, that could result in some very strained work relationships for not just us but for everyone around us, as Humans tended to take sides with their friends when matters of the heart crash and burn.

I was also very different from the others on board and throughout the Milky Way, apparently, in that they all swooned over our very handsome genius captain, James T. Kirk. They would all have died for the chance to spend time with him.

He  _was_  good looking and suave and very self-assured in that brash, arrogant way leaders needed to be in order to make command decisions on the spot without second-guessing or self-doubt. He was flirty and touchy, and I could tell he totally believed he could have anyone on board he wanted.

And the captain was right—he pretty much could. He was _that_  incredible. He knew it. His fellow officers knew it. His crewmembers knew it.  _Starfleet_  knew it and wasn’t above using his considerable charm and charisma to its own advantage throughout the Federation.

When you were around Captain Kirk, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only one in the universe—the smartest, the most important to him.

With a ship this size, that meant almost 500 people walked around thinking they were something slightly more special than the others to their captain. But there was no question, everyone assigned to the Enterprise was exceptional, or they would not be here. Kirk’s command skills were legendary throughout the Federation (sometimes even more so to our enemies), and the crew trusted without question his ability to keep them safe and equipped to explore the universe, as he trusted them to masterfully overcome every obstacle we faced.

Of course I appreciated our captain’s unique command acumen. But I was different in that I had eyes for only one man—our Science and First Officer, Commander Spock.  
  
Mr. Spock was unlike anyone in the known universe, quite literally. He was Vulcan on his father’s side and Human on his mother’s side, and that made him the most unique and amazing being I had ever met, much less worked with.

I admired everything about him. He was logical, brilliant beyond measure, talented, tall and breathtakingly handsome…and honest. He did not lie. That trait alone stirred something in me that no other being ever had or, I now knew, ever would.

And that's why for me, within months of our launch, the question of dating became nothing more than academic.  
  
I didn’t fall easily, but when I did, I fell deeply and completely, to the exclusion of any other possibility. And being the fool I was, having fallen ridiculously in love with a Vulcan meant he was completely out of reach—impossibly so.

So my one foray into life-changing love was over before it even began, and I accepted my singlehood as fateful and final. I dedicated all my passions to becoming the best engineer I could be, since as long as I had been aware of Mr. Spock, he had shown no interest in dating or finding a life partner, at least as far as I knew. The one thing I unquestionably did know was that he had no personal interest in me.

Uhura had told me he once had a fiancée years ago, when the Enterprise took him to Vulcan for their wedding during the second year of their original five-year mission, and that something had happened to end their engagement.  
  
Christine told us there was a lot more to the story, but because of privacy protocols she could not divulge anything she knew.

Uhura had been on the bridge and watched a live transmission from Spock’s Vulcan wife, as he had introduced her—though not a wife by any Earth definition. Uhura remembered her as being "lovely." Spock, along with Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy, had beamed down to the planet for his final joining ceremony.

From that point on, all records were classified. The commander had returned to the Enterprise unattached, and nothing more was spoken of it. So that was all I ever found out about the commander’s personal love life.  

But I already knew in my heart that I would never find any other man who would make me forget the feelings Spock sparked in me. He made my tummy flutter and my heart ache and yearn. He made me happy and filled with want for him just by being anywhere near him.

Well, to be honest, he didn’t  _make_  those things happen. He was not even aware of my existence other than as a member of the engineering crew.

I was glad Commander Spock never paid attention to me specifically. It would have made me extremely self-conscious and awkwardly nervous. When he came to engineering, it was usually to help our Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Scott, when there was some sort of problem or emergency with either the ship’s engines or warp drive or even with security.

We all assisted the first officer as a department when he needed us, but other than that, Mr. Spock was not in the business of making friends with the crew or joking or gossiping with them, as Captain Kirk was.

Captain Kirk cared about every _one_. Commander Spock cared about every _thing_.  
  
Apparently, though, I was a blatant failure at hiding my frequent stolen glances at Commander Spock when he was working with us, and my comrades found it great fun teasing me, having decided I was infatuated with Spock. Damn them. So much for hiding my most embarrassing secret.

But since I had finally admitted to myself that yes, I was actually hopelessly in love with Commander Spock, I had become the worst actress in the galaxy, unable to hide my “goo-goo” eyes, as my coworkers called it.

In all fairness, Commander Spock pretty much amazed everyone, everywhere he worked on the ship, in either his science or command team role. He had earned the respect and admiration of us all.

The difference was, the others found him somewhat cold and lacking in social skills and the ability to genuinely relate with others. They deemed him aloof and stoic and perhaps heartless.

I deemed him the love of my life, with whom I would probably never even exchange a non-engineering word. The course of my life had been changed forever, as I now knew my one remaining unfulfilled life dream would never come true. I would never be loved by the one who had become most important to me, and I would never have a family.

Unrequited was nowhere near strong enough to describe this loss. A new word would need to be invented.

But then at the costume party, my entire world shifted...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a reworked fantasy, created over the decades by one who fell in love with Star Trek, and Spock specifically, back in 1966 when the TOS universe was cutting edge and brand new. It was previously posted under different author name but deleted.
> 
> All chapters named after movies with "Dream" in the title.


	2. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [](https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fCZ3y7XGwx8/XJbHKyARCZI/AAAAAAAACn0/6UKIJM2_oDYV99K9OXaOhx0ZkknES9h4QCLcBGAs/s1600/tumblr_pou237aFZU1v3h8yso1_540.png)  
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> _Beautiful artwork created by and used by special permission of amazing artist, Mylochka_

The long-awaited party was enchanting like something out of an historical novel, everyone dressed in strikingly clever and gorgeous costumes. There was dancing and singing and buffet tables covered with tons of both traditional and exotic foods, plus any drink you could possibly want. Work schedules had been altered so that all crewmembers could get away from their posts and spend at least some time reveling.  
  
Many of my engineering coworkers took pity on me and invited me to dance—definitely not my area of expertise. But I was having the best time laughing and gyrating with the music in spite of my lack of grace, my usual restraint having been shaken loose by the liquid courage of a few too many cherry margaritas.

Everyone I knew was here, including Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, though both were still dressed in their duty uniforms.  I was kind of surprised to see our first officer show up, but he and the captain were separately walking among the attendees, exchanging pleasantries. Perhaps their station required it and Mr. Spock felt it incumbent to follow that protocol.

The captain obviously melted hearts everywhere as he squeezed his way through the pulsing crowd, sparking desires in those who hoped to capture his attention for the evening. 

My only interest was the brilliant first officer as he made his rounds with hands clasped behind his back, which I had learned was an important Vulcan method of protecting their telepathy-sensitive hands from accidental skin contact with others.

As Spock approached my area, stopping briefly at each group as he circulated, I wondered if I could escape undetected by going back to the dance floor with my friends, as my peers had me irrationally paranoid that I wouldn't be able to hide the now infamous look in my eyes from the commander. I already wondered how everyone in the conference room, which had been transformed into party central, didn't perceive the changes in me as he drew nearer. Surely the entire ship could hear my traitorous heartbeat.

When he reached me, my perception became some inexplicable slow motion thing, the way ridiculous, old-fashioned Terran movies highlighted the meeting of two love interests. Good Lord, I had become genuinely pathetic.

Spock’s face held a very singular focus, inducing an adrenaline high all through me, unsummoned and miserably uncontrollable. I had no idea how to hide my ragged breathing. That didn’t keep me from trying though, and I felt as though my chest was about to burst from the effort.

I had actually never been this close to him nor heard his sonorous off-duty voice, still full of authority but also rich in elegance and quiet contemplation. I also had never been contemplated before. It was exhilarating.

But then,  _everything_  was exhilarating when Spock was around. The air seemed to sizzle with the energy of his presence and my passion.

Mr. Spock reached my table now and he spoke, authoritatively meeting my eyes, “Lieutenant Saunders, how are you faring this evening?”  
  
Wait. The commander knew my name? I didn’t know he had any idea who I was.

“I am adequate, Commander Spock. Nemaiyo. Sochya eh dif,” I replied with the traditional Vulcan greeting, lifting my hand in the ta’al.

“Dif-tor heh smusma,” he responded, also offering the ta’al with the traditional Vulcan blessing. "How is it you speak Vulcan, Lieutenant?”

“I studied Vulcan linguistics briefly at the Academy a few years ago. You have now heard almost everything I still remember.” I smiled, trying my best to restrain my voice from shaking, which was practically impossible.

“Your training covers more than engineering, I see.”

“Just from extra classes I took on subjects that personally appealed to me, sir. And Vulcan has always been one of my interests.”

“The language only or the planet in general?” He appeared somewhat surprised.

“The culture, the planet, everything, Commander Spock. I’ve always wanted to visit, and I look forward to eventually seeing Vulcan in person some day. I’m actually hoping ultimately the Enterprise will have reason to stop there.”

“My father is Vulcan ambassador to Earth, and my parents divide their time between both planets," he offered. "They are always gratified to return home, even my mother who is Human. She has spoken of enjoying her life on Vulcan very much.”

I was suddenly aware that Mr. Spock was sharing personal information about himself with me, something Uhura had told me he never did, adding that was why so many believed Spock to be aloof.

“Did you get to travel with them as a child, spending time on both planets?” Since he had just shared intimate details of his life, I was intrigued to learn more.

“I did, though my mother and I remained on Vulcan during my father’s more extended and intense negotiations.”

I wanted so much to ask him how it came about that he entered Starfleet instead of studying at the Vulcan Science Academy. I couldn’t imagine that he did not over-qualify for entrance. He was superiorly brilliant.

“I sense there is more you wish to know. Perhaps at a later date, I could answer more of your questions,” Spock added.

“Oh! No, sir.” I warmed with the intensity of my sudden blush. “I would not consider prying so unsuitably into your life. You are exceptionally interesting, with a very unique upbringing. My apologies, Commander. My curiosity got the best of me.”

“Lieutenant, I do not mean to imply offense. I am sincere in furthering our dialogue about my home planet.”

I could not have been more stunned if he had fired his phaser at me.

“In that case, sir, there is nothing I would like more than engaging...I mean, talking with you…in…that…uh…conversation.” _Just let me die right now. Engaging? Did I really just say that?_  Inwardly, I vowed to never drink another margarita as long as I lived. _  
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“Perhaps the next time we both happen to be in the officers’ mess for dinner, we could talk then,” Spock suggested.

I couldn’t help beaming. Then I toned it down, remembering the goo-goo eye thing. “I would appreciate that, Commander. I look forward to it.”

He turned away and resumed his rounds, visiting with other crewmembers.

I thought my skin was going to tingle off of my body.


	3. Follow That Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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I had not seen Commander Spock for almost an Earth month since our talk at the costume party. It wasn't that I expected to by now, but it was still a hope. Since Vulcans were known for their honesty, I knew Mr. Spock's invitation for further discussion would eventually be fulfilled at a time our schedules coincided and our paths crossed. I continued on with my work, ignoring the whispers and snickers from my peers who had seen Mr. Spock stop and talk with me at the party and couldn't help but notice the animated way in which I responded. Again, try as I might, my face hid little. Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves. I apparently wear mine in my eyes.

Good thing I hadn't set my sights on a career in diplomacy or negotiations....or playing poker.

One evening after shift, I was on the lift headed to the officers’ mess when it stopped and Mr. Spock entered. Upon seeing me, for the briefest of moments his face brightened almost imperceptibly, which made absolutely no sense to me. “Ah, Lieutenant Saunders. Uf nam-tor du nash khru?”

“I am very well this evening, thank you, sir,” I replied in Standard, adding, “Heh du osu?”

“I am acceptable, thank you. I am headed to dinner. Would you care to join me?” 

_OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod_

I surreptitiously (I hoped) held onto the railing behind me for dear life. “That would be most agreeable, Commander.”

“We can continue our discussion regarding Vulcanian culture. Since our most recent missions presented some unique opportunities for new research, I have taken most of my meals in the science lab," he explained.

“We’ve been confronted with a few new challenges in engineering as well," I added, "but so far, we’ve only hit a few snags.” I noticed Spock's right eyebrow disappeared under the line of his bangs. "Oh, sorry, sir—old Earth slang, uh, I mean, expression, for 'problems.'"

“I see. Here we are,” Spock said, as he motioned for me to exit the lift first and then immediately clasped his hands behind his back, as was his standard posture. As Vulcan fingers and hands were incredibly sensitive, the race as a whole practiced this stance in self-protection from inadvertent touch by others.

Mr. Spock chose a table in the back corner, and after we obtained our food, both choosing salad and fruit, I learned of his childhood training and education, his pet sehlat _I-Chaya_ , and the Vulcan Surakian culture of logic and emotion control. He introduced me to several common Vulcan phrases I had not learned previously and then expounded on governmental hierarchy.

He described the Forge desert area and Mount Seleya, where the most significant Vulcan ceremonies are officiated.

And most importantly to me, the Commander revealed his lineage dating back to Surak, the prophet himself, whose tenets had saved Vulcans from themselves when their emotional torrents and bloodthirst for violence almost destroyed them and their world. Surak’s precepts had rebuilt their culture, and Vulcan had grown to become what it was today—the galaxy’s bastion of logic, self-control and academic focus.

I learned that yes, he had easily earned admittance to the Vulcan Science Academy in spite of being half Human but had turned down that honor, choosing instead to enlist in Starfleet. I could tell by a fleeting look in his eyes that there was more to that story than his mere stated facts, but I also figured if he wanted me to know, he would tell me without my asking so I refrained, no matter how intense my curiosity.

We lingered deep in conversation for two hours longer than our meal required, though my salad didn’t interest me nearly as much as my hunger for Spock's first-hand account of the workings of his home planet. Between my enjoyment of learning such intimate details of Vulcan history and its culture from an authentic citizen, and the pleasure I gained by having his undivided attention for these hours, I basked in the elation of just being in his presence, across from him, looking at him without restraint or criticism or mocking.

I figured those would come later from any of the engineering staff who saw us eating together.

So much on the Enterprise brought me great happiness. But measured against this time spent with Spock, everything else paled in comparison.

“Oh! Mr. Spock, I didn’t realize it was getting so late. Your insights have been so captivating, the time has flown by.” I rose from my seat in preparation for dismissal. “I appreciate you bringing me up to speed on your planet, sir. This has been a very enlightening and enjoyable discussion.”

“I have found it most agreeable, also. Live long and prosper, Lieutenant. Pleasant sleep.”

I was aware of the fact that I _must_ have ridden the lift and then walked to my quarters. But my senses insisted that I had actually floated there.

 


	4. Deadly Dreams

Almost four Earth months had passed since my dinner and discussion with Commander Spock. Since then, I'd been in his company only as part of exploratory landing parties.

The Enterprise crew conducted six missions total during that time, and I was beside myself with excitement at orders assigning me for two of them. These would be my first planet-side experiences, and my assignments were affirmation of the command team’s trust in my capabilities and skills to function in that capacity.

It was only logical that for each, Commander Spock had been designated team leader, acting in his capacity as science officer. The missions turned out to be the very definition of conventional routine.

 

 

There was no way I could have prepared for the fact that when I awoke for alpha shift four days later, that very afternoon my joyous life on board the Enterprise would literally come to a crashing end, changing my life forever.

 

 

I was again enthusiastic to be appointed to the landing party of our latest mission. A passing Federation supply vessel had reported that an uninhabited planet, designation M547, was the site of unexplained sporadic and fluctuating radiation levels far exceeding normal. We were to wear protective suits and helmets enabling us to safely research what had been determined was ground zero of one of the phenomenon’s 129 similar sites seemingly scattered haphazardly across the planet’s surface.

The five of us comprising the landing party would be taking the Galileo shuttlecraft because of its extensive radiation shielding, with Spock at the controls. This mission was not rated dangerous, and we expected to be in and out of location within four hours and back writing extensive but monotonous reports by end of shift.

It suddenly hit me out of nowhere that with my helmet on, I would be able to sneak a look at Mr. Spock every once in awhile and no one would be the wiser because of our tinted transparent aluminum shields, something which I had only been able to do once before—at dinner. The commander was more than a handsome, distinguished-looking, brilliant man. He was the handsome, distinguished-looking, brilliant man who held my heart along with his, in his side.

Of course, he not only didn’t know that, he _never_ would. And then realizing I was acting more like a silly, lovesick teenager than a professional engineer, I shook the unwelcome thought out of my head.

Our landing was by the book, smooth and unaffected by the pulsing radiation of the area. Those pulsations were to be the focus of our on-site inspections, as they were the factor making our work so important today. No one had devised a working theory to conclusively explain why at 129 locations on the planet this phenomenon existed, intermittent and unpredictable.

We were here to ascertain whether the source of the eruptions was natural to the terrain itself or had been created by visiting lifeforms or by natives who had either abandoned the planet or succumbed to an extinction-level event. The one thing we knew for sure was that this anomaly had never been encountered on any other planet discovered so far by a Federation ship.

The five of us were spread out, taking as many tricorder readings as possible, all the way from the area where Spock and I were presently working which was nearest to the most recent eruption, out to the perimeter where the radiation levels dropped significantly.

Suddenly, a previously benign small crater at the perimeter of our observation radius spewed an intense radiation burst shooting at least four kilometers straight up into the air, mushrooming in a 500-meter spread over us,  The eruption came without warning, and even though Spock and I were furthest from the outburst, my hazmat suit alarm jolted me with an earsplitting blare, indicating it had instantly reached maximum RM's for radiation protection without injury. Everyone instinctively took off running as quickly as possible toward the Galileo in the attempt to get inside its walls of added protection.

Everyone except for me.

For some unknown reason, at the first sign of eruption, Commander Spock had immediately grabbed me and scooped me up into his arms, running like hell—probably at least five times faster than I could ever have managed on my own shorter legs. As we approached the shuttlecraft, Spock still running flat out, he signaled the Galileo hatch to open so that we could enter quickly.

“Commander! What the hell! Put me down!” I was so shocked by his actions that my insubordinate yelling at him had not even consciously registered yet, and he made no move to respond to my demand. I could barely see his face through the thickness of both our shields, but as his face was now no more than inches from mine, there was no way I could miss that Spock's eyes looked wild with intensity and determination. He cleared the entire height of the Galileo entry steps in one flying leap, and as soon as we were inside, he dumped me in the navigator’s front seat.

It was only then that we realized Lieutenants Randall, Rasulov, and Aliyev were not with us. Spock quickly punched the hatch control that sealed it shut, and we rushed to search out the front viewport. What I saw was sheer horror.  
  
“God in Heaven! Oh my God! No!” I cried out and promptly retched inside my suit. Spock lunged to unlock my helmet and threw it violently aside to prevent any chance of me aspirating it and choking, as my chest was heaving uncontrollably. Fighting hysteria, I forced myself at that point to clear my own airway and clean myself, as Spock returned to assess the critical status of our situation.

Every time I blinked my eyes, I saw my friends on the ground out there, their radiation suits melted and burned beyond recognition, as were their bodies. The only two things I could think of were the fact that at least they died instantly and didn’t suffer, and that but for Commander Spock grabbing and running with me, I could be out there on the ground with them, charred. Dead.

I checked the radiation levels inside the Galileo as Spock yelled, “Grab another helmet and vent out our internal air supply. I will then replenish and pressurize. We are taking off immediately. Strap yourself in.”

I watched him key his communicator in attempt to call the Enterprise, only to be answered by loud static. As he repeated his efforts, calling out on all frequencies, he also set the controls for takeoff and initiated a five-second countdown. Upon liftoff, the controls were sluggish, and the Galileo strained to barely attain the velocity necessary to reach a 130-kilometer altitude, far below standard orbit. Spock began system diagnostics but never had a chance to check the readouts as the thrusters began to shudder and grind, the engines threatening to shut down completely.

We switched to manual control, both fighting to work our recovery checklist protocol, trying every way possible to regain control and stabilize the small ship. But we soon realized that nothing we were doing would change our situation. There was no question we were going back down.

The only question was how hard our impact would be and whether it would be a survivable event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "WHAT CAUSED FLAMES TO SHOOT 12 FEET? THEORIES ABOUND AFTER FIRE SHOOTS FROM HOLE IN ARKANSAS TOWN"
> 
> https://www.arkansasonline.com/news/2018/sep/20/what-caused-flames-to-shoot-12-feet-201/?utm_campaign=magnet&utm_source=article_page&utm_medium=related_articles
> 
> (Life imitates science, almost a year after this was first written.)


	5. Bad Dreams

Here we were, I was sure just minutes away from death, fighting to regain control of the Galileo. I prayed more fervently than ever before in my life, “Please, God. Save Spock. Please don’t let him die.”

So few believed in God any more, but I did. Outbreaks of belief came and went, the number of true believers never keeping up with the population growth on any planet or outpost. But numbers didn’t matter to me. I knew what I had seen and felt throughout my life. I couldn’t explain it, I couldn’t prove it. I just knew what I knew inside myself.  
  
I desperately wanted Spock to survive this catastrophic failure, and I was 100% devoted to assist in any way I could to make that happen. Along with my critical event protocol duties, I was doing my best to stow and lock down anything loose I could reach that might become a dangerous projectile upon our impact. I set the computer to close the crash doors over the forward viewport at the last possible moment.

But all the while, I kept praying that Someone much stronger and wiser than I would protect the man I loved.

“Brace for impact,” Spock shouted, which meant I had to abandon my checklist.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” I mouthed inaudibly. 

Nothing could ever have prepared me for such a violent impact. We smashed into the ground hard, we bounced, we crashed again, we slashed through trees and gashed rocks, over and over, ripping away part of the aft. I watched as my right leg was breaking from impact against the hull, a piece of metal broke away and hurled through the air, impaling my right shoulder, and I felt pressure on my head. But I felt no pain with any of it. I wondered if I was already dead.

The wrenching of the ship as we ricocheted off different objects made it almost impossible to see if Commander Spock was injured or even still alive while we remained in motion. My head was violently slamming around inside my helmet and I squeezed my eyes shut against the increasingly overwhelming dizziness. I knew the moment my left hip was struck by something, maybe impaled by metal also. I couldn’t see and I couldn’t discern the feeling.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity but was probably no more than fifteen seconds, what was left of the Galileo and of my commander and me came to an abrupt stop. The good news was that we were upright and I was conscious. I desperately fought to loosen my safety harness and remove my helmet. But it was miserably hard, as blinding dizziness threatened to render me unconscious.

“Commander!” I cried out, but even I couldn’t hear my own voice, so of course I knew he couldn’t. I gathered up every ounce of strength I had, took a deep breath, and screamed, “Spoooooooock!”

There was no answer.

I couldn’t think clearly. I knew there were medical kits located aft and stern, or at least they were before we crashed. Now, their location was anybody’s guess. And then I grimaced at the thought that I might be the only “anybody” conscious to do the guessing.

“Please,” I whispered again, “Help me get to him. Show me what to do.”

Everything in my brain was muddled and foggy. I needed Divine help for sure, as I could not even concentrate enough to recall my training in emergency procedures.

I felt a hot flash of anger at myself. My reactions were unacceptable. I _would_ get to Spock and find out if he was alive if it killed me. And sure enough, it might do exactly that, but I would go down trying.

My left arm seemed okay, and I leaned as far toward the commander as I could, my eyes still squeezed shut. When I brushed against his right arm, everything in me wanted to jostle him to see if I could get any kind of response. Of course, I was too well trained to give in to those impulses, but I did gently squeeze his forearm.

Resigned to the truth that it would be impossible to assess Spock's injuries without opening my eyes, I determined to do so. I also determined to ignore the metal sticking into my body, and if that meant throwing up from vertigo, so be it.

Peeking through squinted eyes, what I saw shook me to the core. A large, jagged piece of metal had sliced through the port upper hull plate, lodging no more than one inch from Spock’s helmet where it covered his left ear. His left arm was critically fractured just above the elbow.

Assessing those injuries while reaching for his right wrist, I tried to feel a pulse. And then I realized, I didn’t even know if Vulcans had a pulse point in their wrist as humans do. Again I became furious with myself that I had learned to speak insignificant Vulcan phrases, but I didn't know this one most basic, vital fact about Vulcan anatomy.

I had to stand up as best I could and force my body toward Spock to feel for his heartbeat, which I knew was located in the relative area of the Human liver.

Discovering whether he was alive or not would determine the course of my next actions.

If, God forbid, Spock was dead, I determined then and there that I wanted to go with him. I would yank out one of the pieces of metal impaling me and allow myself to bleed out...and simply go to God, into that next realm. I had no desire to linger, suffering inside a mangled body of flesh, waiting to die for who knows how long, not knowing whether the Enterprise or a rescue ship would show up in time—all in a world with no Spock.

Garnering all my strength for one great effort, I threw my maimed body toward the commander, reaching for his heart. Somewhere between my seat and his right side, the pain I previously couldn’t feel due to shock abruptly racked me with a vengeance, dragging me down into darkness that would not be denied.


	6. Dream State

I finally woke up to the answer for my earlier question. I was, indeed, apparently dead.

I was lying down comfortably in what appeared to be fragrant, soft, thick grass. I felt no pain whatsoever anywhere. My head was no longer foggy. No awareness of any broken bones or metal sticking into me. I was in paradise. My only sadness at accepting my death was that I would not be able to assist Commander Spock with his injuries and help make sure he survived.  And that of course stung my eyes with tears, the only ones I had shed through all of this.

But since I knew the Bible says there are no tears in Heaven, that left me with one of two options. Either they weren't letting me into Heaven, or…

I opened my eyes slowly, and tested to see if I could turn my head. I could slightly—no more nauseous waves of dizziness.

That begged the question—how did I get out here? I had been in the Galileo, pretty much stuck inside the ship. I couldn’t walk.

So I wasn’t dead, but there's no way I got out here on my own, either. Somebody else moved me.

But sensors had shown there were practically no lifeforms on this planet, no indigenous people, no animals. Only a few fish and a limited number of species of insects. Mostly, there was only plant life. And I had yet to meet the flora that could carry me and place me on the ground outside the ship. Of course, I had heard rumors…*

Suddenly it hit me. This must mean the Enterprise had finally picked up our distress signals and sent help!

But…

No.

My heart sank as I searched around for any sign of rescuers.

Then he appeared over me. Maybe I was dead after all. The most beautiful being I had ever seen, wounds and all, was kneeling over me, looking down into my face with what, if he were human, would be called concern. “Mr. Spock,” I tried to say, but my voice would not work.

“Shh. Lie back and save your energy. I have injected you with powerful pain medication, but I do not know how long it will last.”

“Oh, my God, Spock. You’re alive?” Though I could only whisper, this time he could hear me.

“So far, yes, Lieutenant. But we need to get off this planet and get help. I have been unable to contact the Enterprise. They do not respond to my hails. I have set my communicator to automatically send continuous distress signals.”

“You’re alive, Mr. Spock. Thank you, God. You’re alive.” I reached up and squeezed his forearm again, filled with relief and wonder and joy that God answered my prayers affirmatively and Spock survived.

“Lieutenant, please remain calm and still. I must continue to search for the second medical kit. We both have extensive injuries that must be attended to immediately.”

“Spock,” I whispered urgently as possible. “I saw your left arm is broken. What other injuries do you have?”

“Lieutenant, please limit your concern to nursing your own injuries and do not fret about mine. I will be back when I find the other kit.”

I knew I would need to set my broken leg, and much more extensive work would be required to set and heal Spock’s compound-complex fracture. I couldn’t imagine how he was functioning nor how he moved me out of the ship with the amount of pain he must feel from the arm, not counting from any other injuries. I could see his humerus jutting out of his skin. The threat of infection in that wound alone was terrifying, as it would most likely prove fatal. Somehow, he had managed to tie on a tourniquet, which prevented him from bleeding to death already.

Since he was unconscious when I first tried to get him to respond after the crash, I knew he must minimally have a concussion.

We desperately needed sickbay and Dr. McCoy. Time was critical to our survival.

I was greatly relieved when Spock returned and bent over me again. “Lieutenant, I located the second kit. Before the analgesic wears off, I need to set your leg and remove the metal pieces from your body. I will need to cauterize those wounds, and then use the dermal regenerator.”

“No, we need to tend your wounds before mine. You are mission commander. It is paramount that you’re treated first. You must survive this.”

“If I must make it such, consider it an order. We do not have medication to deaden extreme pain. This will be…difficult for you," Spock insisted sternly.

For the first time, I was watching my Vulcan commander act illogically. “Commander, you know it’s protocol to treat you first. I feel well enough to help you.” I began trying to sit up.

I would swear Spock grimaced as I moaned at the movement.

“No. You first. Lie back down.” I knew I had lost when his voice dropped lower into his command voice, which accepted nothing less than strict compliance.

If Spock were human, I would interpret his countenance as an emotional response, dreading to cause me pain. But since he wasn’t, I didn’t know how to translate what I saw on his face.

He began. His tremendous strength was necessary to yank the metal from my shoulder. I screamed in agony. I had no idea it would hurt this much, since I felt nothing at all as it pierced me.

But the darkness and regret I saw cross Spock’s eyes as I screamed made me determine to never do that again, no matter how much it hurt, no matter what it took.

He had only begun. The cauterization was more than I could bear, and I passed out again.

When I regained consciousness, I realized fainting had been a blessing. I saw that Spock had repaired as many of my injuries as he could with our limited medical supplies. All metal had been extracted and my leg was set and a long metal pole was attached to stabilize it. I did not see Spock, though.

“Commander, where are you?” There was no answer. I tried my best to sit up and look around to locate him.

“Commander!” I cried out when I saw him. Spock was now lying on the ground face down, unconscious beside the Galileo steps. I slowly, painfully, inched to his side. He had worked on healing me while there were shards of metal embedded in his own body, I now realized.  
  
I looked around for the medical kit and was immeasurably grateful he was unconscious, because I would never be able to work on him without my hands shaking dangerously if he responded to the pain I necessarily would cause him. He needed much more extensive work than I had. He would be in misery and nothing could prevent that outside of anesthesia and surgery, which weren’t an option unless the Enterprise showed up soon.

I could deal with the metal, the cauterizing, the regenerator. I was intimidated out of my mind by the humerus fracture. It was a grisly injury, and I wasn’t sure I was even strong enough to reset the bone, much less mentally strong enough to do what had to be done.

I was praying for strength as I worked on his injuries, when Spock began to stir. As his eyes fluttered and opened, I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more scared of this last physical challenge with him conscious.

“Lieutenant," Spock groaned. "I apologize. I have lost blood volume and was overcome. I did not mean to leave you alone. How are you feeling now?”

I huffed frantically. “Please, Mr. Spock, forget about me. I need help. I removed all the metal shards and repaired those wounds. But I won’t be able to set your arm without help. Tell me what to do, sir. What can I use to help me set this bone? If it were below the elbow, I think I could have handled it, but your humerus is denser than I have strength to manipulate.”

“I can set the bone myself, if you will make the other repairs to the affected area.”

“No! You can’t do that yourself. How would you handle the pain? How could you even watch that?”

“Lieutenant, I will take care of it now. Do not watch. I think you might lose consciousness again if you do.”

I sighed again, frustrated again by my own inexcusable weakness. I didn't deserve to be an officer, much less assigned to the Enterprise, if I surrendered to my emotions every damned time there was a crisis.  


“No sir, I _will_ watch,” I answered fiercely. “I’m staying right here.”  
  
“Then I will proceed.”

What I watched the first officer then do to his own arm, his own bone, was immeasurably worse than the most gruesome horror movie I’d ever seen. And yet, he barely cried out, he never turned his head away. He never lost consciousness nor gave in to nausea. He completed the procedure with so much dignity and grace, I would have thought he did this every day or that the arm was not attached to his body. I had never seen such a display of personal strength and courage.

And all the while I was falling deeper and deeper in love with him. How could I not? Even in my pain, even in his agony, at this most inappropriate of moments, I wept quietly at how much I loved and admired him and grieved for his pain.

But my feelings were the least important thing possible at this moment. I still had to knit the bone, cauterize his large, gaping wound, and patch that skin. It took me another 30 minutes to finish my part of the procedure, as Spock watched. I had hoped he would pass out again or maybe just go to sleep for a short time, but he didn’t. Even in his pain, he chose to constantly reassure me as I worked on him. What kind of person could even do that?

I had never met anyone like him. Lucky would be the one who someday became his bondmate, as the life partner of a Vulcan was called. I couldn’t imagine what a wonderful life that person would have, joined to this amazing man, spending their life with him. Being loved and taken care of by him. In that moment, I vowed I would move Heaven and Earth to try get him back home for that person...to get us rescued.

Finally, I had done all I could do. There were other immediate needs that now must be addressed.  
  
“Commander, did you see if our emergency water and nutrient tablets are still on the ship?”  
  
His already pale face blanched. "I apologize, Lieutenant. My injuries seem to be impairing my judgment. I should have brought them out with the medical kit. But yes, they were thrown out of the storage compartment and strewn around the cabin.” He started to sit up. “I will go inside and….”

“No! You will not.” My junior ranking didn’t matter to me in that moment. I had a command voice of my own and was no longer afraid to use it. “You will remain where you are, and I will go retrieve them.”  
  
“Lieutenant,” Spock attempted to growl.

I neither answered nor looked back. I crawled and dragged myself slowly up the steps into the Galileo and began searching for our emergency supplies. We would need hydration and food to have any chance for healing and survival, marooned on this planet. There was much to be done, injuries or not.

We had expected to be here only four hours, and though we always carried emergency provisions, we had nothing to sustain us over the course of weeks.

I never stopped praying that the Enterprise would answer our distress calls and come get us. I could only imagine why we couldn't make contact with the ship, and everything I imagined led to only one possibility.  
  
I fought against giving in to my rising panic. I must remain professional and adhere to my mental training, rather than entertaining my wildest fears—that somehow the Enterprise had been destroyed and was no longer in orbit above us to hear our calls.

But I could come up with no other explanation for the static we received with every attempt. We were now hours overdue for rendezvous. God, how I ached to hear Uhura's voice comming us right now.

The one thing I never doubted—if the Enterprise _did_ still exist out there somewhere, Captain Kirk would do everything to find us and return us to the ship. I had absolute faith in our captain, as I knew the commander did, also.

I pushed the water and food across the deck before me as I crawled, and then rolled them out the hatch when I reached the steps. I was daunted by the task of safely sliding down those steps. Crawling up had been much easier. But it had to be done, and I had to get everything to Spock. His needs were even greater than mine.

When I finally slid everything close enough to the commander, I lay down beside him in the grass, enjoying my first taste of water in what seemed like days. I fought my natural urge to open his water and aid him in drinking because I knew it would be out of place, and I was equally sure he would not appreciate being helped. After all, I had just watched him practically perform surgery on his own arm, wide awake and with little painkiller. Drinking water would be a breeze for him.

I gathered my wits about me and knew the moment had come to ask him the most important question.

“Commander Spock, do you believe the Enterprise was somehow destroyed? Could there be any other explanation as to why they have not already come for us?”

“Lieutenant Saunders, it is much too early in our situation to indulge in vain imaginings regarding the ship. It might be disabled, it may be affected by circumstances we know nothing about nor could have foreseen. This planet is a mystery to us, so it is wise to belay needless speculation.

“I can assure you—our captain will come for us. I do not know when. But I do know he will never stop trying to rescue us, as long as he has breath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Reference to Star Trek: The Animated Series, Episode 7, "The Infinite Vulcan." On the planet Phylos, plant life called Retlaw had legs and were mobile.


	7. Wishing For A Dream

“I think I'll miss vanilla ice cream the most. Oh, and tomatoes. Do you have either of those on Vulcan?”

It had been four days since we crash-landed on planet M547. So now Commander Spock and I were sitting beneath a tree in the shade, leaning back against its trunk at right angles, listing what we thought we would miss the most if stuck here forever. At first, the idea seemed a bit maudlin, but turning to look at each other as we spoke, the idea of sharing this kind of easy, superficial information became a bit more palatable.  
  
We had also discussed or debated every topic from serious to ridiculous that either of us could think of. Ok, so the ridiculous subjects were mine, but since I was considerably more light-hearted than Spock, and it appeared we were going to be stuck here over time, I figured he might as well know how I am now, rather than wait. I was just trying to fill the time we required for healing and rest with something less tedious and boring than merely counting the moments passed since the crash. I tried to explain to Spock that Humans have a way of feeling like time passes more quickly the more active our minds, a concept he termed “highly illogical," followed by an extensive scientific discussion how time is a constant in one set location and remains so no matter how stimulating our activities or lack thereof.  
  
Plus, I was learning that Vulcans were pretty much living, breathing chronometers and couldn't trick themselves about the passage of time as Humans could. I kind of felt sorry for Spock about it. I was all for anything that made it feel like we were moving more quickly toward the moment we would be rescued and could go back to our normal lives. Not that there was anything routine about living and working on a Starship, but it was definitely more normal than this.

Our favorite mental exercise so far was breaking down and reassembling the warp core chamber and power delivery system to the engines. As we scrutinized the circuitry, we actually came up with a few innovative ideas we already planned to present to Starfleet when all this was over. If it was ever over. I personally was growing more discouraged by the hour. And there was logic to back up my pessimism.  
  
Our distress signals to the Enterprise, or really to anyone within broadcast range, continued unanswered. But that was practically impossible. There were numerable checklists of required steps in the Starfleet Operations Manual to safeguard against the very possibility of an ongoing situation such as ours.

After all, this mission had been assigned to us by Starfleet Command, and we were detached with specific orders where and how to collect data on the phenomenon—in other words, they knew _exactly_ where we were within a few hundred kilometers. I mean, why wouldn’t they have come for us by now?  
  
With multiple Enterprise check-ins being hours overdue days ago, the SOM required immediate deployment of a space buoy probe. Even if its scanners showed irrefutable proof the Enterprise had been destroyed, standard procedures mandated they send a search and rescue team to recover any of the remaining crew or landing party and to collect any existing remains of those who didn’t survive. The launch of a manned on-site investigation to determine at what point safeguards and protocols broke down resulting in catastrophic failure must begin within 24 Terran hours.

So unless Starfleet had ceased to exist, it was impossible that we were left stranded here under any circumstances.

And yet…we had been.

There was little we ourselves could do for now, except rest and recuperate...and wait. Our supplies of water and nourishment were not unlimited, though sufficient for the immediate future, until we were either rescued or were well enough to scavenge and replenish them ourselves with natural resources. 

We had spent our first day doing nothing but rest and sleep and our second day logging extensive reports on our PADDS, which, along with our tricorder, had survived the horrendous crash.

And now we were down to discussing things we'd miss if stranded for an indeterminable amount of time. "Vulcan being a desert planet, we must conserve our resources," Spock explained. "Frozen ice cream was a rare treat after our meals, though I have had occasion to consume different flavors of the dessert on Earth and replicate them on the ship. As far as tomatoes, my mother often tried to grow various species for cooking and salads.”  
  
"Speaking of Vulcan cuisine," I added, "I'll also miss plomeek soup. At the Academy, I learned to prepare it from a recipe I had found in one of my Vulcan study guides. I experimented spicing it up a little for late night study sessions. As soon as we get home, it's plomeek soup, tomatoes, and vanilla ice cream for me that very first day back.”

“You never cease to surprise me, Lieutenant. I would not have guessed a popular Vulcan soup would be in a Human’s top three food choices."

“So if I ever get to work in the Vulcan ambassadorial program, I'm batting two for three. That's good to know," I chuckled as I looked into those gorgeous chocolate (stop thinking of chocolate!) eyes, and then watched his eyebrow raise in puzzlement. "It's just a baseball term, Commander, just a Terran sport. And you, sir? What would you miss the most?”

“My needs are simple. I will most miss the occasional real water shower. And I have a definite affinity for the inclusion of the elements, such as incense, that enhance my meditation time.”

“I don’t know, Commander. Those are some pretty selfish wishes,” I teased, adding more seriously, "but I'll see to it that no one disturbs your meditation time that entire first week back, I promise you."

I had also been mediating on a few things myself, while sitting here. “I’m thinking it may be time to start planning for at least our immediate future on this planet. I’m beginning to believe no one is coming for us for maybe a long, long time. I hope I'm wrong, but I can't deny it any more, no matter how much I want to. This may be our home for the foreseeable future. Which means, we have some significant decisions to make about what we need for survival now.”

“Our wounds are healing well,” Spock observed. “I have been hesitant to suggest anything that might stress your leg or shoulder, or even my arm before absolutely required. We necessarily will have some heavy lifting to perform.”

“Well, since you worked miracles putting me back together," I added, "I believe I am ready to start doing some work.

“And, now that we may be stuck here awhile, would it be out of line, under the circumstances, for me to request you call me Anne? I’m not much of a lieutenant any more. Here I’m pretty much just an engineer.”

“There is no 'just' to it, Lieutenant. Our engineering skills will be very important to our continued existence.”

“Anne…sir?” I reminded him.

“Yes. Anne. Call me Spock.”

"You won't allow me to call you by your first name?"

"You would not be able to pronounce my clan. Spock is my only name and much more accessible to Standard speaking Humans."

“Someday, Mr. Spock, you just watch. I will surprise you with my ability to pronounce your clan name perfectly, accent and all. By then, you’ll be captain of your own ship, or maybe an admiral, and I’ll look you up and send you the holovideo.”  
  
“I have no such aspirations, Anne. After my time with Starfleet is completed, I shall enter an ambassadorship, as did my father before me.”

“He must be so proud of you. What father wouldn’t be?”

“That is a topic for another day.”

 Oops. There was that fleeting glance again of…something I couldn’t define. Obviously it was time to drop it...for now.

“So, should we start a running list of our needs and a separate list of our preferences, and then prioritize each?”

“Why, Lieutenant, are you sure you are not part Vulcan?”

I realized he was teasing, but I had never seen nor heard of a Vulcan teasing anyone before. There was no doubt about it now. “That is one of the greatest compliments I’ve ever received. I aspire to be more like you...I mean, you know, more like Vulcans.”

I hadn’t known Vulcans could blush either, but Spock’s cheeks undeniably flushed greener. And I wasn’t sure if I should never say anything to elicit that response again, or if all I wanted to do was evoke it again, as often as possible. It was…adorable.

And I was absolutely certain Mr. Spock would not hesitate to bust me back down to yeoman if he knew I ever considered him as such.

I turned my head to look straight forward, fearing he might see all of those thoughts in my eyes. Or worse, he might be able to detect that I loved him. I couldn’t let that happen.

I picked up my PADD to start our lists.

**Requirements:**

  1. A replenishing source of food and potable water. Since we knew there were species of fish present in some of the bodies of water plus a good chance of finding edible plant life there, the obvious choice would be to locate near a spring-fed pond or lake to solve both problems.
  2. We had been sleeping in the Galileo, but with the rear destroyed in the crash, it did little to insulate us against weather or temperature extremes that might occur. Since most of the planet provided plenty of strong trees and we had equipment to cut them down, we could fashion logs to build a shelter, when we were physically healed well enough to handle them. We would first need to design and build a rig to move and set the logs as needed.
  3. Generate renewable energy. This was especially urgent to keep our distress signal broadcasting uninterrupted and our PADD’s charged for as long as we were marooned here.
  4. Eventually, we would need new clothes if we were here indefinitely. Obviously, animal skins or fur were out of the question, and fish scales were not strong enough. Plant fibers and a way to weave them would be required.



**Preferences:**

  1. Soap and necessary toiletries (those were mine)
  2. Coffee and tea (Okay, those were my choices too, which were met with a Vulcanish scoff.) We probably could easily find herbs and plants with which to brew teas. It was just finding the right ones.
  3. Private sleeping areas in our shelter.
  4. Determine if there was ever advanced life on this planet, and if so, what happened to them.
  5. Investigate and research the causes of the radioactive bursts, scattered around the planet. That, after all, had been our reason for coming here in the first place. As with the military, we were required to follow our last standing orders until new ones modified or cancelled them.



So, we decided that we would get one more good night’s sleep and recuperation and then start fresh in the morning, putting all our efforts into locating a body of water not too far away to move our equipment and available supplies.

Later when evening fell, now that we both were feeling much better, we had decided to build a campfire. The past two nights had been a bit chilly for me, so I knew they were much more uncomfortable for Vulcan physiology. I thought the heat would also feel really good to our sore bodies. And besides, a campfire had always been comforting to me. I think I had gained that perspective from many camping excursions with my family when I was young.

“I’m kind of excited to find a more permanent base. Do you have any construction experience?” I asked. "My parents and I had built a small treehouse for my nieces once, but it was very small and basic—nothing like we would need here.

“I do not,” Spock replied. “However, with our combined engineering expertise, I am certain we will be able to put together something substantial for our temporary needs.”

“What if….”

“I am not concerned about us. I am, indeed, concerned about the Enterprise. There has been a serious breach of interstellar emergency procedure. Though worry is illogical, I find myself troubled at our long list of unanswered variables.”

We spent the next few hours studying our pre-mission scans of the terrain, searching for the areas most accessible to us that would supply our basic needs. A couple of prospects had seemed most compelling, so now it was just deciding which to scout first tomorrow.

But for now, we had gathered broken, dried limbs and twigs and started a beautiful roaring fire. We had dragged up a couple of large rocks to comfortably sit on.

As I sat staring into the fire, poking at the burning branches with a long stick, I asked, “Commander, have you considered how life will be from now on if we are never rescued?” I turned my head to look into Spock’s face, knowing he would be honest with me.

“I believe our lives here can be good, certainly very different from anything we have ever experienced. However, civilizations lived and prospered for thousands of years on untold thousands of planets, with less than we have available. If those beings could do it, I believe you and I can, with our knowledge and skills and training they did not have. We have a modicum of technology and electronics that continue to function. As we are both engineers and have expertise in several fields, I believe you and I have a better chance than most who survived in the past under these conditions.”

“So you actually believe we can live long and prosper here, to coin your phrase?”

“Indeed. Interestingly, with no other advanced lifeforms on this planet, there is a chance you and I will never know illness here. On the other hand, there exists the chance that at one time in the history of this planet, indigenous civilizations thrived but eventually succumbed to disease or plague that might still flourish in the air or in the soil, thus killing us before a rescue party finds us. Indeed, there are incalculable variables that could prove fatal to us at any time.”

I had wanted honesty, but I wasn’t prepared for such brutal candor. Next time, I’d ask Spock to soften up his delivery a bit.

“If we remain on this planet,” Spock assured me, “you most certainly will outlive me. Though the Vulcan life span exceeds that of the average Human under ordinary circumstances, my unique biology presents certain requirements that cannot be fulfilled here away from civilization, unless there are innate properties on this planet that override them. However, if we are not rescued, I project a 97.23 percent chance you will spend the vast majority of your years here alone. I am…sorry, Anne. I wish I had better news to offer you. I know you have many friends and enjoy spending time with others.”  
  
There was absolutely no doubt now that this man, no matter his heritage, harbored deep emotions, as his eyes were unmistakably filled with genuine regret.

I gaped at him and then turned my face back to the flames of the campfire. I realized he was innocently condemning me to the worst possible outcome—a life of complete isolation. The thought of having no other being to share discussions with, to laugh with and share everything, seemed unbearable.

But this was all mere speculation. I had to lighten the mood.

“Gee, thanks, boss. Already planning for your demise and my abandonment. That might be a record even for a Vulcan.”

He flushed green again.

Yep. Totally worth it. Spock was so handsome—even the remaining bruises on his face couldn’t diminish his beauty, which just added to my yearning.

“I apologize, Lieutenant… Anne. That was highly insensitive of me.”

“It’s just the truth, Spock. Obviously, I know practically nothing about Vulcan physiology, and I don’t understand why it would cut your life short, but I’ll be praying as hard as I can that someone finds us long before then. I’m sure you would have no problem surviving, even thriving on your own. But me? I don’t know if Humans can actually die of loneliness, but I’d just as soon not find out.”

Obviously, I didn't want to be condemned to solitary confinement on this planet. But more than that, Spock was still very young by Vulcan standards, and he had much to contribute to this universe over the course of a very long and prosperous life.

So I vowed right then to be the absolute best friend I could be to my commander and to focus all possible attention on figuring out a way to get him back to civilization so he would survive to experience it.


	8. Dreamscape

_Oh my God!_

Nothing, _NOTHING_ in my entire life had ever felt as good as what I was now experiencing.

Spock was taking readings around the area of the lake we were considering for our temporary new home and agreed to allow me privacy to bathe.

I had not been fully unclothed since the morning of our crash. Much of my uniform was ripped and frayed, but we could repair our clothes somewhat and we had methods on board to continue our hygiene, but just the bare essentials.

This…. _this_ …was the ultimate rapture a body could feel, or at least that I ever had, so far.

Fine. I didn’t have much to compare it to, as I was that rarest of adult beings in the universe: a virgin. But this absolutely _had_ to be as good as the best sex I’d never had yet. The freedom to glide in the water, sink, bounce, splash, twirl, swim below the surface, gravity counteracted against my recent wounds. I had not been in a body of water with this kind of freedom since before my assignment to the Enterprise. I never even realized how much I missed water. Lots and lots of perfect tepid water. All over and under and around my body…lapping at all my skin.

I felt like I could die from the gloriousness of it all. I never wanted to climb out. I wanted to cleanse and dunk and float and be surrounded by this water forever.

I suddenly realized I had been humming and singing, just softly to myself. And just under my skin thrummed a deep gratitude to God for this moment. After all, but for Spock’s actions in grabbing me and running, we could have died with the other scientists.  
  
Or worse, this could have been a planet with no bodies of water close enough to reach alive, no plant life or source of food.

Or worst, both Spock and I could have been injured so catastrophically that we couldn’t move, slowly suffering to death still belted into the destroyed Galileo.

And yet, here I was, bathing in beautiful clean water, hardly a pain in my body, my five senses all intact. How we beings often waste time complaining about petty discomforts and overlook the wonder of the basics of life.

“Lieutenant! Are you still in there?”

 _Uh oh_. I had assured Spock I would be out and dressed for his return by now. I had been so lost in the elation of the moment, I lost track of how much time passed.

And then, of course, it happened—an unbidden shiver at the thought of Spock removing his clothing and wading out to join me. How much I would love that, love to soap every inch of him—for him to turn and wrap me in his long, powerful arms, rub his body against mine, possess my mouth—claim it as his own. Claim _me_.  
  
And then, of course, the guilty emotions surfaced—those which stung my eyes at the absolute knowledge that it would not, could not ever happen. He would never think of me in that way, never as more than a fellow officer, subordinate in rank. His Vulcan half would never allow it nor want it. So I must resign myself from wanting it, too. If I didn’t keep a tight rein on my emotions, Spock could easily become an obsession, and that would destroy my ability to be the friend and colleague he needed and I needed to be.

"I'm still in the water, Mr. Spock. I apologize,” I yelled as loudly as I could. “The time got away from me, the water is so soothing!”

“Acknowledged,” he called back, absorbed in studying his tricorder results. “According to the scans we took before our initial landing, this location is the closest in proximity to our crash site that will best suit our needs. Readings indicate plenty of fish for you and non-toxic edible plant life for us both. And the lake is spring fed, so it should remain fresh.” Spock was still walking toward me, still running his tricorder as he approached the shoreline. “There are plenty of trees for building shelter. Yes, I believe this area will be most conducive to fulfilling our immediate requirements.”

Were Mr. Spock human, he might have thought to excuse himself for awhile longer, allowing me time to climb out and dress and _then_ conveyed his reports. But not Spock. I was amused and a little perplexed that it didn’t seem to even cross his mind.

Spock's results were, though, very welcome news. I could almost imagine we were explorers and had just claimed our first outpost in the name of…well, I supposed, the Federation.

“Uh, Mr. Spock?” I called out toward the direction of his voice. “Could you give me five more minutes to finish up here and get out and dressed?”

“Oh, of course Lieutenant. I’ll move further north until then.”

I wasn’t about to take this particular opportunity to remind him to call me Anne. It was much better to not be on particularly familiar terms at the moment.

I rinsed my long, golden brown hair once more and began walking to the shore as I twisted out the excess water. I wore my hair longer than most on the engineering team, but I always kept it up and out of the way while on duty. Here in captivity, as I considered that this deserted planet held us captive, I had been letting it loose to cascade down my back as I had at the costume party. I rushed to dress again, making sure to be in complete uniform, or at least in as much of it as remained, before the Commander returned.

Home. I had always been the kind of person who liked the feeling of a private place that sheltered me from anything "out there." The Enterprise had been a most warm and inviting home for most of two years.  Well, this place was certainly both private and warm. Too private, though. My friends were out there on our ship. I hoped.

It had now been five days since our last communication…since I last heard my friend’s voice. I missed Uhura. I prayed that she and all our shipmates were alive and safe...somewhere. But there was no longer room for doubt. Something was catastrophically wrong with the Enterprise, and therefore, with us.

The not knowing was the worst part—suspended in limbo between the comforting idea that our friends were alive and vibrant and out there, planning our rescue as soon as possible, and the facts—our friends were either dead or being detained against their will, unable to reach us. Without proof either way, we could not grieve their loss nor find comfort in thoughts of their safety. They had been as close as any family and they were as MIA as we were.

A person could go crazy thinking about it with no data or input to go on, except for the fact the mere lack of data was a conclusion in itself.  
  
Time to throw my entire focus and energy into making a life here and keeping our distress signal going. I had always been taught to prepare for the worst, while hoping for the best. My injuries were now healed well enough to start that preparation, as were most of Spock’s.

Our new location would be only eight kilometers from the Galileo crash site, which really was relatively close by. I felt very fortunate that we had only that short distance to cover in relocating our few supplies and belongings.

Before we returned to the Galileo for the evening, Mr. Spock also took advantage of the chance to bathe in the lake, as I...kept a discreet distance.

We planned our big move for in the morning. Over the past two days, we had determined the easiest way to take our supplies to the lake was to gather them in our sleeping bags and drag them behind us. The regenerator and knitter had been life savers, but we were still not 100%, physically. We would travel slowly, not jeopardizing our physical repairs. It would take us at least half the next day to get everything to the lake. The remainder of the day would then be spent erecting a temporary shelter from emergency “materiel” we were bringing with us from the ship.

I couldn’t imagine how early pioneers on any planet built homes and communities from scratch, with none of the tools and materials we were blessed to have.

The next morning we each ate an extra nutrient pack in preparation for the move. We knew it was going to be a challenge but once done, it was done. We left messages inside and marked them on the surface of the ship, detailing exactly where we were and the stardate we relocated, for anyone who discovered our crash site. I took one last look at the ship that saved our lives, whispering a deep-felt thanks to God, and turned to join Spock for the short journey to our hopefully temporary new home.

It took us a full hour longer than we had expected just to walk and pull our supplies slowly enough to prevent damage or pain to our bodies. Neither of us had ever experienced such severe trauma to know the limitations of our physical repairs. And not just the repairs, but apparently the vast amount of energy required for recuperation. We had to take more breaks than we had planned.

By the time we arrived back at the lake, we were both not only exhausted but pushed beyond our ability to function without some restorative sleep.

In other words, Spock took his first unmedicated nap since being a toddler. He was none too accepting of his body’s requirements for rest. But I, on the other hand, just laughed at his frustration and plopped down beside him in the lush, thick green grass, much like that I had found myself lying in after the crash, thrilled for the chance to sleep for a little while. With relatively little insect life, we weren’t concerned with being stung or bitten while lying there.

We had torn out our seat cushions and brought them to use in our new temporary shelter, which would be our makeshift home over the next few weeks until we could build a more substantial shelter. I thought now was a great time to dig them out of our belongings, just to make our nap more comfortable.

Even through my exhaustion, I was happy and smiling and thoroughly amused at my situation—one in which I never in a million years would have dreamed I’d find myself.

I would be sleeping right beside the man I loved.

Uhura and Christine and Janice would tease me unendingly if they knew I was “sleeping with" Mr. Spock. I turned on my side, facing away from him, just to make absolute sure I couldn't unintentionally end up snuggling closer to him or wrapping my fingers in his, or worse, laying my arm across his chest, in my sleep—all positions my heart and entire body ached to feel. My conscious mind would never allow those things to happen, but I didn’t trust my subconscious _at all_.

As I expected, when I awoke, Spock was already up assembling our shelter for the night, after building a substantial fire. He was researching on his PADD how to catch different types of fish.

“Mr. Spock, you don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out tomorrow. I can eat what we brought with us or what's around here for dinner. But that is so thoughtful of you since you don’t even eat fish!”

“These fish are not like those on Earth,” Spock shared what he had learned. “Since there is limited insect life, these species live also on plant life. To catch them, we may have to fashion a trap of some kind, as a hook baited with vines may not attract them.”

“We’re engineers. We’ll build some amazing contraption, I’m sure. But for now, is there plant life you’ve already chosen for our first M547 authentic meal?”

He led me to an area of heavy growth a few hundred feet to the northeast, where not only were there several varieties of edible greens but also different bushes with red and blue berries. They were different shapes and sizes, but not that different in appearance from Earth cherries and blueberries. Tricorder readings indicated they were also edible, and as neither Spock nor I had any known food allergies, we decided to give them a try for dessert. Vulcan and Human tastes were known to be quite different, but we also accepted that when stranded, we wouldn’t have much chance to be very picky about our food preferences.

Our number one goal was survival—to be alive and functioning when a rescue ship came for us. _If_ it came for us.

We pulled up our seat cushions to sit on near the fire and started taste-testing our newfound greens. They really weren't too bad. Definitely foreign, but tolerable. 

"So what do you think of our new food supply," I asked.

"I find them agreeable. Not unlike plant life I've eaten on Terradine Alpha, except these plants are higher in nutrients than those, so I believe we are quite fortunate."

"I'd like to try combining some for soup tomorrow and see how their flavors blend together. Who knows? Maybe we'll discover a replacement for Plomeek."

But the berries turned out to be an exquisite delight. I believed I could have lived off of them alone for the rest of my life if necessary.

I was grateful for another fact of our mission location and crash site. We were close to this planet’s equator, which meant our temperatures would remain relatively unvaried, which in turn meant year-round food supplies, rather than a limited growing season. That was one less thing we would have to build. Had we landed in an area where seasons changed dramatically, we would have required a greenhouse for growing food during cooler temperatures. These apparent unending food and water supplies were perhaps the greatest gifts our new home had to offer.

Under different circumstances, this would have been a most advantageous situation for a prosperous and enjoyable life, or at least what I would have enjoyed. The man I love, building a home, doing research, maybe someday children. Living much like colonists.

Well, at least we _would_ be building a home and researching all we could about M547. And in our non-work time, perhaps Mr. Spock would even teach me to play chess, something which had never interested me before. But I knew the commander and Captain Kirk had played often, and I believed learning this skill would build our friendship and become a welcome distraction and activity.

I also hoped Spock would be willing to teach me to speak fluent Vulcan. Perhaps then someday after our rescue, I could work as a member of his father’s ambassadorial entourage, possibly even as an emissary, traveling throughout the galaxy. Now that I would never have my own family, I would not be tied down to any one location. I would be free to put my education to good use, serving new civilizations that needed engineering assistance.

Of course, right now, we could not be more tied down to one location, and unless we discovered the fish could talk, our language skills would not be very important, except to each other.

For me, it was more of a challenge to _not_ engage my language skills. I would be fighting a constant battle to keep from speaking the words my heart begged me to say. 


	9. Field of Dreams

_Dammit Spock—I’m an engineer, not a weight lifter._

“Anne, why are you laughing now? You almost dropped that log on your foot. You are uninjured?”

“Oh, I'm fine. It just made me think of Dr. McCoy and what he would probably say at a time like this, and then I just couldn’t help laughing.“

“The doctor uses many colloquialisms. I struggle to keep up.” Spock raised one eyebrow, which I had decided was Vulcan for rolling his eyes, something I believed his people wanted the rest of us to think they were above doing.

I wasn’t buying it, as the only thing Spock couldn't keep up with, in my experience with him, was a speeding bullet (you know, the old "able to leap tall buildings in a single bound"), but I figured time would tell. I was frustrating enough Human that if Spock did roll his eyes, I’d be on the receiving end before too long and prove my theory for all time.

After almost losing some toes, I realized the importance of starting an intense weightlifting regimen, as I had no idea logs were so heavy, or this work so physically challenging. Even though Mr. Spock was, as all adult Vulcans were reputed to be, at least three times stronger than Humans, it was more like four times stronger than I, but he would still need help lifting logs into place. The Federation, I guess, volunteered me in absentia to fill that role.

Embarrassed that once our new home loomed over about sixty inches high I would be rendered practically useless, I admitted my low-key workouts and yoga classes left me unprepared to hold that kind of weight over my head for any length of time, especially when we started climbing around the scaffolding Spock designed for us. After all, I was assigned to engineering, not security. I just didn't know I should have prepared for anything this demanding. Lesson learned. We were nowhere near the sixty-inch mark yet, and I had already proven to be dangerous to myself, much less to Spock.

The commander had used a PADD program to design blueprints of the logic-based shelter he wished for us to construct, and he had calculated the measurements for an efficient hoist system to aid in lifting and placing the logs. I believed there were old Earth palaces that would barely compare to this shelter's projected sturdiness and functional design. The logs would be numbered in order of use, matching notches cut and fit together so well that very little of the mud/grass filler would be needed to keep out the weather. We had discovered over the course of our twenty-two days here that the wind did indeed pick up at times, mostly before strong storms. There had been a couple of nights we slept in our little portable shelter for protection from thunderstorms, but usually we felt totally at ease sleeping under the stars on our sleeping bags, as our environment was proving to be quite safe and pleasant.

Spock also aided me in cutting a series of small logs, graduated in size, to use as makeshift weightlifting bars for increasing my muscle mass and strength, thereby increasing the odds of our mutual safety. For awhile, he spotted me for me during my lifting regimen and kept me from making any rookie mistakes as I grew stronger.

And then before too long, Spock began to join me, as apparently either I made it look just so doggone much fun he could no longer forgo the opportunity for such excitement, or he was intimidated by my newly expanding brawn.

Right.

Anyway, I’m sure boredom played into a lot of what we worked on, as our entire lives were being spent working together, playing chess, swimming (actually that was just me as I learned Vulcans weren’t very fond of getting wet), studying, and planning and building our temporary home.

We somehow fell into jogging together every morning. Thankfully, Mr. Spock was gentleman enough to not take off and leave me, as he had proven the day of the crash he could so easily have done. This added to the enjoyment of exploring more outside the parameters of our immediate surroundings, although we were finding our neighboring terrain was much like our own settlement, as we now thought of it.

I had determined within the first five days that our lake fish were just too cute to be eaten (okay, truthfully they were just too difficult to catch with plants), so by default, I was also becoming a vegetarian. That was fine with me as we had discovered many different types of plants that were quite tasty and nutritious, which made excellent soups, and which when brewed made enjoyable teas. And there was always an abundance of the small, delectable berries to round out any meal and flavor our teas.

If I just pretended we were camping out, I could convince myself that I was having a great time colonizing M547. I was even trying out new names for the planet.

Anspock? Spockan (which of course made me think of Washington State on Earth). Saunspock? Spockders? Oh well, the name M547 was starting to sound better every day.

I loved Spock deeply. Just getting all this time to be with him was a miracle. I was so happy working with him that I had to fight survivor’s guilt for more reasons than usual. After all, we may have lost all our Enterprise friends and colleagues. We knew for sure we lost three, and we could not even recover their bodies for burial.

And yet here I was, working beside the love of my life, and finding joy in that. The only way I could come to terms with my emotions was by remembering I had fallen in love with Spock long before coming to this planet and my friends’ deaths. But still, it was most unnerving not knowing if we were only mourning three friends or hundreds.

Expending so much energy to the point of exhaustion as we worked on our shelter and hobbies was definitely keeping me healthier mentally. I didn’t know if it helped Spock to stay busy, and I didn’t really feel comfortable asking him if he had any difficulty dealing with what we saw happen when the radiation burst occurred or the devastating crash of the Galileo and our injuries.

I also was having a problem gathering enough courage to ask him the one question I wanted to ask about that day, because I was afraid it might change our friendship or make things awkward between us.

But I finally had to know.

One night, as we sat staring into our campfire, we were discussing different theories regarding the radiation eruptions on this planet, when I finally found my nerve.

“Spock, that very first day here. When we were running scans and taking tricorder readings and then that crater erupted with such a deadly concentration of radiation. We all turned to run, but you grabbed me up to carry me as you ran. Why did you do that?”

His answer made me realize that all my thoughts these days were colored by my emotions toward him, because I was not even consciously aware I had been hoping his answer would express sentiment or emotion.  
  
Quite the contrary. His answer expressed no tenderness to me personally at all.

“You were the closest to me, and I could only carry one person. And the fact that your legs are shorter than the men’s made you the logical choice to help get to the ship more quickly. I am troubled that I could only save one of you and not all four.”

I was deeply embarrassed. Had any of the men been much closer to Spock than I, it would have been he whom Spock grabbed and carried, and I would have become nothing more than ashes. It had not been personal in any way. I turned my face away to stare back into the fire, praying he could not see me blushing from guilt. I was going to have to start meditating like Spock did every day to get control of my emotions and runaway thoughts. Of course his actions would be based on nothing but logic. I felt ridiculous to have even wasted a second thinking it might have been more.

Five mornings later, as we jogged southward toward some low hills, I was surprised to hear Spock suddenly stop and scold me somewhat.

"Lieutenant, I am beginning to grow concerned that we are not getting more accomplished toward completing our shelter. We are wasting inordinate amounts of time on pursuits I would consider trivial. I believe it is time we stop jogging and weightlifting and start spending more time on actual work building the cabin. After all, even when our quarters are completed, we will still need to build at least a minimal amount of furniture. Our fireplace design must be tested for safety, to make sure it is spark proof and drafts smoke well enough to be safe for indoor cooking. A bed-like structure for each of us, on which to put our sleeping bags, would be highly practical."

"And there I thought we were getting a huge amount of work done in record time, Spock. What happened to make you change your perspective of what we have accomplished so far?"

"Nothing has happened. I am becoming more aware of the importance of focusing on completing our tasks. After all, we have no way of knowing what each day will bring. If I were to become impaired or ill and leave you with all this work to be done, your needs for survival here would not be met and that might even result in your demise. I will not allow that to happen. It is of paramount importance we get the shelter built with all alacrity.

"Starting tomorrow, my energies will entirely be targeted on completing the log cabin and appointments we have planned for it. I want to ensure you can survive here alone, should I not be here."

"Spock, you're scaring me. Why would you not be here? Are you ill? Is something bothering you? Am I bothering you?"

"Anne, do not read more into my words than I am saying. It is only that I insist we complete the crucial projects that will keep you safe and meet your survival needs without delay. Our goal is not to get into shape or to be amused or entertained. Your needs are great and must be addressed and accomplished without further delay."

"No, no. I...you don't lie...but I don't believe you. I've never doubted your word before, Spock. Never. Not once. Something is wrong. We were building a well-rounded schedule, both mentally and physically, and now you want to toss that aside. What's wrong, Spock? What are you not telling me? And what do you mean my needs? Your needs are the exact same as mine!"

He ignored my questions, firm in his resolve. "I have made my decision. Tomorrow, we will no longer be sidetracked. We will move to complete all the work we have begun."

 


	10. Dream House

Something was _very_ wrong. Suddenly, I hardly knew this being I was marooned with. He was changing right before my eyes.

Previously, Spock had been logical, measured. Even gentle and understanding. We partnered in our work, and his patience with me was pretty astonishing.

I had worked alongside him, and he had been constantly teaching me, showing me how to work with the construction materials efficiently. He'd been encouraging and complimentary, expressing gratitude for all I did.

Now, Spock was becoming short tempered (for a Vulcan anyway), impatient. Even demanding. Illogical.

_Illogical._

I was growing more scared by the hour. Not scared of Spock. Never.

Scared _for_ Spock. I was becoming worried that the concussion he received during the crash had caused some kind of brain trauma that was only now presenting through his behavior and words. I considered that he might be developing an aneurysm or some kind of progressive brain damage. I had only emergency medical training, so my fears ran away with me.

He did not seem to have head pain, which I would have thought symptomatic of any brain injury. I had only asked him once though if he ever experienced headaches. It was not a pleasant exchange.

Spock had become so unpredictable in his present state that were he human, I would say he was secretly being tormented physically by…something.

He was a blur of activity, almost manic in his drive to complete the shelter and those items he insisted we must build immediately.

I could not even begin to keep up with him. Spock was hardly allowing himself to rest, much less sleep, and I feared his previous injuries might not be healed thoroughly enough yet to stand up to the punishing demands he was making of his body. It had become so bad now that he would not stop to eat, no matter what I prepared or what I did. I dared not plead further with him to take care of himself. That had only proven to make things worse.

I would work with him until I no longer could lift my arms or stand. I pushed myself as hard as my body would physically allow, but instead of growing stronger, my own weaknesses were breaking me down.

My heart ached from watching this vibrant, gentle Vulcan force himself beyond his limits. I began to fear he would drop dead on the spot from this kind of extreme exertion. Afraid his body would just give out.

And his eyes. Spock’s eyes were changing. They seemed fiery to me. Burning with an intensity I could not bear up under. If I did not know him, I would think he was going mad.

I had not prayed so much in my life as I did now for him. And it was made more difficult because I didn’t even know what to pray for. I just wanted Mr. Spock to return to the calm, controlled logical being I had observed for almost two years on the Enterprise, and with whom I had worked day and night the past three months here.

Things could not continue as they were. Spock was going to slam into a wall, and I didn’t know what to expect when that happened, or how to prepare to help him. I prayed for guidance and strength.  
  
And then.......he was gone.

 

As soon as we completed the shelter and the necessities, I woke up the next morning to…emptiness.  
  
His away bag was missing, along with his personal effects.

I’ve never felt such panic and emotional pain in my life. I had no idea where he was, where he had gone. _Why_ he had gone.

I looked everywhere for any indication he might have left to tell me where he was going and when he would be back.

Any information.

Anything.

But…nothing.

He had left our new shelter...and me...alone. Totally, completely, absolutely...alone.

He did not take a communicator nor his PADD with him. I had no tracking device that would help me locate him.

I hit my knees and cried out to God, begging Him to show me what to do. How to help Spock. How to find him.

I feared he had gone off to die. After all, he had told me because of Vulcan physiology, I would outlive him.

But no, that wasn't right. I didn’t fear it.

In the core of my being, I _knew_ Spock had gone off to die.

Alone.


	11. Dream On

After prayer and meditation, I was able to tamp down my panic a little and try to think more logically.

Spock could have gone anywhere, in any direction. I could think of no reason Spock would choose one over the others—except one: The Galileo. He would still need shelter until…

No! I would not dwell on the possibility he was dying.

Of course, if he were aware of being very close to death, shelter might mean nothing to him, which scared me even more because that meant he could have gone in any direction, and most likely I could never find him in time.

But since there was no way to be sure, I didn’t want to miss an obvious clue by just not looking.

I scoured all around the area, trying to discern if there were fresh footprints supplying a clue as to which direction Spock took when he left, but sadly, I was not trained to know the difference between yesterday’s tracks and today’s without a recent rain.

I looked all around the area for the third time, trying to discover any message or hint that would help me find him. No way was I going to just sit down and let Spock die out there somewhere, all alone. No damned way.

I was mad. Mad he left. Mad he left me all _alone_. Mad he lied to me— _lied_ — about nothing being wrong with him. Mad that finishing the shelter had been so damned important to him, but telling me the truth, one of the most significant traits I loved about him, was not important to him at all.  
  
It was just us on this entire planet. And now, for all intent, it was just me. Maybe for the rest of my life, however long that would be. I refused to contemplate such an outcome. I would not rest until I found Spock if it took me...forever.

The cabin was beautiful, and all our belongings and supplies had been moved inside. Spock had built us each our own room for privacy. We had a communal space where he included a fireplace. We had a table and one chair. Only one chair, I had thought, because we would get to the second one today. I couldn’t have known it was because he knew I wouldn’t need another one.

I had gone through everything of mine several times, looking for any possible clue I had overlooked or misunderstood. There just was nothing there.

That was it. I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer. I was walking around, searching every log, every corner, every inch of everything, inside and out, through blurry, tear-filled eyes.

Finally, I returned to Spock’s room and plopped down in the middle of the floor. I decided I would pray here and study everything around me. There had to be something here. Something I overlooked. I just had to be wise enough to find it.

Spock had spent no time in this room after it was completed. His belongings were not organized. There was no lingering evidence of his now familiar intoxicating natural scent. He had not meditated in this room so it would do no good to try to capture some mystical mental signature drifting in the air.

Standing, I walked among his possessions and held, one by one, each item in my hands, stroking my fingers over them, trying to feel a connection. I felt ridiculous doing so, but I had run out of non-ridiculous ideas, and it wasn’t like anyone was going to catch me and mock me for it. I wanted to feel close to him again, and touching his things provided me the only way to experience that.

I held his tricorder and checked his latest readouts. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

Then I picked up Spock’s PADD, since he didn’t take it with him. That was the main reason I believed he was dying. He would have needed it were he planning to live elsewhere. And he obviously didn’t leave it for me to use as it was passcode protected. And, anyway, I had my own.

His PADD. I was no hacker, but I was willing to give it my best shot. I tried everything. _Everything_. Every date I thought would be of importance to him. His family’s names. I-Chaya’s name. Spock’s birth date and the dates of his enlistment into the Academy and then into Starfleet service. Names of all the people on the Enterprise who were closest to him. Their ranks. Code words that stuck out when we talked about Vulcan.

I was sobbing bitterly now and growing angrier. I was ready to chuck the frustrating, useless piece of crap against the wall as hard as I could, hoping it shattered into a million pieces. I had tried everything I knew to try except one, which of course I knew definitely was not his code.

Only complete and utter desperation made me try it anyway.

Oh my God. Spock’s code was the one thing it never occurred to me it could possibly be. _My_ name.

As all his secrets opened to me, I just stared at this electronic masterpiece. I was shaking, afraid to even start searching. The enormity of holding part of Spock’s life in my hands gripped me with emotions I could not begin to confine.

God, I was so in love with him! Even more than I had realized. I trembled as I closed my eyes tightly, thanking God for helping me. This might have been the last thing he touched before he disappeared. I fingered it lovingly, as though by doing so I were caressing his face.

But when I started scrolling through everything, I still found nothing that helped me, unless he programmed it to run a code so stealthy no one would even guess it was present. But most likely, there just wasn’t anything on it to help me.

It was over, gone as quickly as it came. For a few seconds, I had known hope. And now, all hope had fled again.

I ran my fingers wistfully across the blueprints he had drawn for our shelter. I remembered my excitement as he had shown them to me the first time. It had seemed he was also somewhat excited to share them with me. But then again, I was easily caught up in flights of fancy when I was around him, assigning emotional significance where there was none, as I had entertained the idea that Spock saved my life for more reason than just my proximity and the logic of my choice.

Across the bottom of the page were notations he had made about dimensions and cut sizes and notes about them.

At the very end, he had entered "  ***** 3372.7."

That was a very large number. We had cut nothing corresponding to that exact size. It definitely wasn't square footage. If it was millimeters, that was a little more than eleven feet. I drew a blank as to its meaning.

The more I stared at 3372.7, the more it seemed out of place, not relating to anything else on the page. I ran a search of Spock’s entire PADD for that number and there were zero results. Nothing in my memory related to these five digits.

It didn’t matter right now. Maybe something would come to me later. For now, I had decided to gather a few items in my away bag, including both Spock’s and my PADDs and our tricorder. I was going to head toward the Galileo—the only logical idea I had come up with so far. Even if it turned out Spock was not there, at least it was better than sitting here crying, waiting for…nothing.

I carried water and fruit with me, enough for two. By the time I was about one mile from the ship, I had to sit down to rest a few minutes and rehydrate. I wished so badly that I was not psi-null—that somehow I could pick up some mental trace of Spock’s trail. But of course, most humans were completely psi-null, and there was no help to be found in that way.

As I capped my water container, it suddenly hit me. How had I not realized this? Of course! It was so blatantly obvious.

We had worked with numbers and dimensions and sizes for so long, and since this mystery number was on the page with all of those, it had never even crossed my mind it could be totally unrelated.

3372.7 was a star date!

I quickly pulled out my PADD and did a search of that time, which would have corresponded to the second year of the Enterprise’s original five-year mission. I was trying to find anything significant, such as the Enterprise’s location at that time.

Vulcan! The Enterprise was on its way to Vulcan soon after 3372.7.

Ok. That might have absolutely nothing to do with anything happening today, since it was presently star date 12322.2. But it was the only piece of information I had come up with on Spock’s PADD that seemed out of place, and therefore was of special interest.

 _Oh my God_! As my mind calmed a bit, I realized I didn’t need to search this. I had been so upset Spock left that I totally disregarded what I already knew about the stardate's significance. That was just a few days before they arrived at Vulcan for Mr. Spock’s bonding ceremony. The date after which all information had been classified and I had been unable to learn what happened, except that his bonding ceremony had been cancelled and the Enterprise left for its next mission as though nothing had happened there.

3372.7 was seven years ago. Why would that particular date be significant to Spock now, seven years later? Was he yearning to return to Vulcan and be married? Had he grown tired of space travel and wanted to settle down with a family of his own on his home planet?

As we had discussed what we wanted to do after we were rescued and returned to civilization, Spock had never once indicated a desire to immediately return to Vulcan and live there. Perhaps he did not consider me close enough friend to share something so personal with.

Is that why Spock had become ill-tempered? He merely wanted to return to his homeland and it was impossible?

There was a time I had thought I would someday leave space to marry and raise a family, as children and non-active duty family members were not allowed to live on Federation starships. Uhura, Christine, Janice and I had joked about our “biological clocks” ticking and how we were growing older by the day. If we wanted children, we had only a limited amount of time to do that. Men, of course, had no such physical limitations. Males could father children for…

Wait.

Biological clocks.

 _BIOLOGICAL CLOCKS_?

Seven years. Didn’t Christine once mention something about Vulcans and a seven-year biological cycle? But biological cycle for what? She hadn’t really gone into detail other than at that time, the Enterprise took Spock to Vulcan to bond. Seven year biological cycle. Seven years since 3372.7. Seven years, I contemplated.

Did Vulcans have some kind of biological drive to mate every seven years? Did he need to mate right now? Is the lack of a Vulcan mate what made him change to become so ill-tempered and illogical and different? Was that an inherent trait of a Vulcan mating ritual, something the usually controlled Vulcans found attracting?

Did he leave our camp to go meditate and wait out the biological need?  After all, Spock had returned to the Enterprise seven years ago having not mated (apparently), and Spock's unclassified medical logs from that time reported no lingering ill effects. Of course, as I searched back, there was no reason to consider hacking anything classified. Now, I desperately wished I had.

If that was his situation now, should I even attempt to find him? Maybe after the…need… ran its course, he would return to our camp and everything would go back to normal, and that explained Spock not taking his PADD with him. Well, our _new_ normal. Nothing would ever really be normal again unless the Enterprise rescued us.

I almost decided to turn back and return to camp. I did not want to interfere with Mr. Spock if he was working on personal issues. If the problem really was biologically based, it was none of my business and I had no right to intrude.

But, I had come this far. At least I could see for myself that Spock was alive and would be okay. I could find out when he planned to return to camp and then immediately go back to our camp myself.

Now that I had at least a working theory of why Spock left, I hurried to the Galileo to see if I had guessed right about his destination.

Sure enough, Spock was there. But it was nothing like I thought it would be.

I spotted him from several hundred feet away, lying on the ground near the ship's hatch, almost exactly where I had found him unconscious the day of our crash landing, after he had attended my injuries. I broke out running as quickly as I could, yelling out his name at the top of my lungs, sliding toward him the last few feet on my knees. He was doubled over, writhing in agony, groaning something in Vulcan.

And his eyes? Fiery red and burning with a look I had never seen there before: intense, unbridled lust.


	12. Kissing A Dream

In any other scenario, I would have been thrilled beyond my wildest dreams to see that kind of lust in the eyes of the man I loved with all my heart.

But not in this one. This was not normal lust or desire. This was nothing short of madness. And of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with me.

“Spock! What’s wrong?” I cried as I reached out to touch his arm.

He growled loudly at me _ _,__ causing me to flinch and pull back _ _.__ His eyes wild with anguish and…maybe even fear pierced me as I tried to understand.

“What’s happening? What can I do?”

He struggled to speak through his groans. “I…I burn. My eyes…are flame.”

“Something burned your eyes? Did you bring any medical supplies with you?” I looked about frantically for anything that might be helpful. After all, we took both medkits with us to the camp site and it didn't cross my mind to bring one back with me. What a rookie mistake!

“Pon Fa…Farr. I burn.” His arms wrapped around himself as he rolled on the ground, writhing in pain.

“Commander, I don’t know what kind of chemical Pon Farr is. Was it a dangerous plant you found? Will water help, or is there a counteragent somewhere?”

“No!" he roared, like a wounded animal. "Pon…Farr…time of mating. You…you must go. Leave! Not safe for you!”

“Not safe? How could it not be safe for me? There's got to be something I can get you. Painkiller or water?”

“Go now! I burn!” Spock insisted.

“No! Tell me how to help you not burn, Spock. I'll help you get back to the lake—the water will cool you down.”

I was frantic, but finally realized my panic was running right over the words he spoke. “You said time of mating? Is this something that requires your Vulcan fiancée? I wish I could contact her, but you know I can’t. There’s no one here but….”

Finally dawning on me why he was so upset, my eyes grew wide. "Spock, what happens if you don’t mate right now since we can’t get you to your fiancée?”

“There is…no fiancée. I…I die. You… _ _must leave!__ Not safe for you. I burn. For you.”

“You're saying it’s my fault? I’ve done something that’s causing this Pon Farr thing to attack you?” He merely scrunched his eyes closed and moaned, shuddering.

“Spock, I’m sorry. I’m trying but I don’t know anything about Vulcan mating rituals. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you. I promise I didn't know. But you have to tell me how to help you.” He either didn’t hear me or understand, and he still didn't respond.

“ANSWER ME, SPOCK! I have to know! Tell me how to fix this! I won’t let you die!”

He rolled facing away from me, crying out a blood-curdling scream that seemed to resonate from his very core.

I forcefully grabbed his shoulders and rolled his body back, taking his face in my hands, probably more gruffly than I should have, but I could tell he was running out of time. “SPOCK, ANSWER ME NOW! How can I save your life?”

“You…you do not know…what you ask. Pon Farr. I…must mate…bond. Vulcans…mate for life. Pon Farr lasts…days.  Brutal mating. I would…die rather than injure you.”  
  
Spock struggled with each word. “I...left to keep from...putting you in danger. Go. The shelter will...protect you from me.”

“Oh my God, you think I would want protected from you? Never, Spock. I’m here for you.”

Then it hit me—he hadn't even considered me as a potential mate. He would rather die than  touch me. Was it because he did not find me biologically attractive? Or because I was Human? Either seemed possible, but with death as the alternative...  
  
Then I remembered. Spock's mother was Human. Could Humans even meet this need, or did the ambassador have to join with some sort of Vulcan native surrogate every seven years? 

I needed more time to research, but time was the one thing Spock obviously didn’t have. “Commander, can mating with me save you?"

He suddenly struggled up on his knees and grasped my wrists, pulling them to the front of his chest, his eyes crazed.

“Leave NOW! Or I will take you!”

Oh, okay. Being Human wasn’t the problem. “Spock, are you talking rape? Sir, that’s not...even possible here. I will freely join with you...willingly. Spock, can you really not see it? I  _love_ you. There's nothing I desire more than to make love with you. To mate with you."

“I…do not…understand.”

“Mister Spock, with all my heart, with all I am...I've been deeply in love with you for more than a year." I frantically searched his eyes, his face. "I accept that you don’t... _can't_ love me. But you’re half Human. Doesn’t that mean I can mate with you and save your life?”

“Leave,” his voice shuddered. “Soon I will not be able to control. I might injure you and not even realize it. I would rather die than…hurt you.”

“Spock…it is impossible for you to hurt me.” I stared at him, unblinking.

“I am three times stronger than you. I…assure you it is...not impossible.”

"Sir, you need me physically. I ache for you physically and emotionally. I  _want_  you, Spock, in any way you need me. Take me. Please, Commander. I’m here. I’m yours. I’ve been yours for a long time—you just didn’t know it.”

God, this was Spock. Choosing to die rather than be joined with me.

“Spock,” I breathed. “I….I want to take  _you._  Let me take you.”

He lifted his eyes and glared into mine. Eyes full of questions and pain…and burning savagery.

I dragged my hands, still ensnared by his, back up to his face. His entire body trembled at my touch, as though it were too much for him to process in his present state.  
  
I lay back in the grass, in awe when he moved to hover over me.

More than any other I'd ever experienced, this was  _the_  life-changing moment for me. To my heart, this would be making love, even if it wouldn’t be for Spock. My body was already responding to him as I’d never felt before in my life. The way he looked at me; it was becoming hard to swallow and even to breathe.

Wait, wait! I was so caught up in Spock’s eyes and need, I wasn’t even thinking of my very real problem.

I was a virgin.

This was a life-saving mission. A medical emergency, not an emotional one for him. From the fire in his eyes, I could tell his warning that he could be out of control and not aware of his actions was completely credible. All I initially thought was how wondrous that was going to be, to finally express these emotions I’d hidden for so long. Now I realized, this actually was going to be difficult. It would hurt.

Of course, when it came down to my discomfort versus Spock’s death, there was no question. I would do anything for this man. I knew that with patience, I would be able to accommodate his needs, but his urgency wouldn't allow him patient restraint. I knew it would be beautiful and blissful after the pain was over. Should I at least ask him?

I wasn’t proud that I’d given in to the temptation to sneak a glance at Spock's body when he bathed that first time in our lake, but now I was so glad I did. At least now I could mentally prepare for what was about to happen.

Closing my eyes, I breathed slowly. My heart ached to basically devour him, but did he need something more...logical? I needn’t do anything to arouse him. That was obviously not a problem—his basic biology had that taken care of.

And then, I stopped analyzing and started thinking of him not as a Vulcan but as the man I loved.

I reached up and pulled him to my face, kissing him passionately with everything my heart had hidden.

Maybe that was not my best decision. We had only minimal clothing reserves on this planet, and suddenly, I had even fewer. Within seconds, he had grabbed my uniform top and ripped it to shreds, blindly tossing it aside.

God, his mouth! He was devouring me, and it was way beyond anything I could ever have imagined. He was filling my mouth with his tongue, as he explored mine and enticed it to dance with his: a crazy, sensually charged dance. Sparks of energy shot from his lips to mine, as they rubbed into each other, wet and soft and hard at the same time.

I never knew I even had the ability to feel this starved for a man, or to be the object of hunger.

I moaned, as Spock squeezed my breasts. I’d never felt that before. I was so glad it was Spock—Spock would be the only man to ever touch me. I smiled to myself as I pictured ripping his shirt into shreds as he had mine, his muscular chest opened up to me. I could hardly wait to touch him everywhere. 

As if he could read my mind, Spock’s mouth left mine and worked his way down my neck, growling softly as he moved.

That was the most insanely amazing sound I’d ever heard in my life. I grabbed his head and brought his mouth back to mine as I plunged my own tongue through his teeth. I had never actually enjoyed the tongue thing in kissing before. I guess that was because I never experienced it with the right person.

I let go so we could breathe, and he took advantage by continuing to explore me.  
  
His hands. His elegant, long, warm fingers. I wondered if they were that warm normally. He was running his hands all over my skin where he had exposed it, followed closely by his tongue. I keened as his mouth sucked everywhere none too gently. Finally pushing my hands up under his shirt, tugging to remove it, I wasn’t quick enough; he grabbed it, slamming it over his head, throwing it violently away from us, returning his mouth to my chest.

His beautiful body. The scent of his skin. He had very dark hair scattered softly across his chest. I lifted his face away from my chest so I could nuzzle his, moving across to mouth his nipples, hoping they were sensitive and he would enjoy it. That was somewhat unthinking of me, as clearly the Pon Farr thing made every inch of his body sensitive.

I knew I could never get enough of this. It was everything I ever hoped it would be, and he responded as though my every move was exactly what he craved.

Spock growled louder now as his hands moved further down my body. God, I loved him so much. I was intensely ready for him. I was still a little intimidated by my fear of pain. For the first time in my life, I wished I wasn’t a virgin.

Today, Spock needed a woman who could meet his every need, and I had no idea if I could even do that. I just knew I could love him as no other woman could. But I had to keep reminding myself. Today wasn't about love for him. Love wasn’t what he needed.

His fingers now tore at the remainder of my uniform, exposing the rest of my skin to his eyes. For a moment, I was afraid his gaze would sear through me—just a wild, crazy thought, as his gaze reminded me of laser beams.

Other than my physicians, no one had ever looked at the most private parts of me, had ever touched me intimately. This was complete sensory overload, as his fingers now reached into my warmth. “Spock,” I cried, looking into his face. “I know…you can’t know…but…I’ve never made love before. Can you control enough to take a moment and..." I blushed deeper, "be gentle this first time?”

The expression that swept across his face was feral. He growled louder at me, his eyes raking slowly down my body. Moving back over me, we removed the remainder of our clothing together, freeing him to the air and the sunshine...and to me.

"God, you are amazing! You’re…so handsome. I want you.” His body writhed above me, his hips rising more quickly with the drive of his need. His hands fell to my shoulders, pushing against them as for dear life. His groans and growls vibrated my skin. Spock hovered above me, gazing down at the warm softness that would soon save his very life. “Spock…please, Commander.”

His firm body quaking, he finally began our joining. I could tell it took all of his control to begin gently, to remain gentle, time after time, but somehow he was able to. He never stopped moving. He seemed to receive no relief whatsoever. His entire body remained tense with need, as if each release only pushed him to require more. I was never so glad to be a woman with the ability to make love and enjoy Spock an endless number of times. Spock had said Pon Farr lasted for days, but who knows? I smiled as I imagined being the one to outlast him; that it would be he begging  _ _me__  to stop and let him rest. I hoped Pon Farr lasted forever. I'd never known physical love, and now it felt like I could never get enough of worshiping the body and soul of this amazing, sexy, vibrant man.

And I knew it might be the only time in my life I would be allowed to love him.

He reached down and kissed me hard. It started to hurt, but he was driven to join our lips as though he could mold us into one person. As the minutes turned to hours, I was filled with such longing and appreciation for Spock's Vulcan body. Out of such horrible tragedy, how was this magical wonder happening? We thought we would die, and now every inch of my being sang with love for Spock. 

Finally, Spock spoke, his voice low and gruff. “Anne, this...it is not enough. I must meld with you. I need…to bond…with you for the blood fever to be satiated. Will you allow me?”

“I love you, Spock. Of course. There’s nothing I’d like more. What do I need to do?”

He didn’t answer. He merely reached his fingers to my face and touched what apparently were meld points. In my Vulcan studies, I had read of melding but I’d never dreamed it was anything I would ever experience. Yet this would be much more intense, much deeper pressing into my mind than the description I’d read about. This melding Spock apparently believed would bond us as mates and fulfil his flaming need for being inside me in every way.

“My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts.” His voice was low, broken, but intense, and his fingers shook, unsteady.

As his fingers lingered over those points, Spock mouthed all around my neck again, his tongue warm and wet. My desire for him was so strong that my chest muscles started aching from being tensed so long. I suddenly realized that I was now feeling not only my passion, but Spock's also, as he touched pleasure points in my brain I hadn't known existed. No Vulcan research even hinted at this intensely intimate part of bonding.

Oh my God! I could “feel” Spock speaking to me in my mind. It was…glorious! He moved inside my thoughts, brushing against each of them. It was impossible, but I would swear he was...kissing them. I could somehow _feel_ his thoughts, his….emotions! Oh my God! Spock had emotions! Strong, dynamic, deep emotions.

Waves of pleasure and excitement flowed throughout my entire body, as his thoughts danced through my mind.

_“Spock—what you're feeling...I don't understand...is that possible?”_

_“Yes, Lieutenant. Anne. It is.”_

_“But...how? Vulcans don’t….love.”_

_“And yet, now you know we do. I do.”_

_“Spock? You?”_

_“Yes, Anne. I feel love for you.”_

Through our joined minds, I sensed exactly what his body felt, surrounded by my intimacy.

_“But how, Spock? When? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”_

_“I did not know of your affection. I only now perceive how you desperately hid your emotions from me all this time. I was unaware. And I did not want an expression of my regard to make things awkward between us here on the planet or cause you more distress than our situation, being stranded here, already presented you.”_

_“Spock—you feel my emotions? You can feel…?”_

_“Yes, I feel the depth of your love for me. I can move within your mind and see your memories of moments with me; at the costume party. At our dinner together. All is now revealed.”_

_“I didn’t mean for you to ever know. I didn’t know you even_ could  _love me.”_

_“I can...I do.”_

_“Spock…Spock…I’m…”_

_“I feel it. Anne. Ashayam. My beloved. Do not withhold from me.”_

As if I had any choice, with the most amazing man in the universe above me and within me. My body gave itself entirely to Spock in that moment, trembling together as we melded into one being. I could see and feel our bond's golden threads meet between our minds, knitting and weaving together, gaining strength.

As we took this moment to feel each other inside, both body and mind, we were drawn to each look in the other's eyes and declare..."Mine."

 


	13. Dream Lover

The impossible had happened. The man I fell in love with, who I believed could never be anything but a distant star reflected in my eyes...loved me.

The answer to my wondering whether our first intimacy together would be our last was a resounding and sweetly romantic, "No."

“Commander Spock! You mean _you_ actually peeked, too?”

I couldn’t believe it. My amazing love, this gorgeous man who had just spent almost four days deep in the throes of passionate, brutal, vehement mating practically non-stop, was finally able to breathe serenely as we sat in the shallow water on our lake shore, Spock seated between my legs, reclining against my breasts, while I dug my toes into the warm sand for leverage.

I had never felt so happy in my life. Even now, stranded on this deserted planet. Happy. 

I leisurely teased my fingers through his hair, lathering it after running my soapy hands all over his lithe, muscular body. We were both desperately in need of this long soak in the warm, soothing water, as we were exhausted and extremely sore and chafed; the dermal regenerators had again become our best friends as soon as we got back.

Weeks before, as we examined the local flora for their possible uses here, we had discovered several beneficial plants produced a gentle cleansing-type agent with beautiful, relaxing scents. M547 slowly revealed its secrets to us, supplying almost all of our needs—from delicious edible plants and others with medicinal effects, to leaves with lavish skin rejuvenating agents. For two people marooned here, we were indeed blessed.

When Spock’s plak tow, as he had called it, finally ran its course after being activated by the ancient Vulcan bonding claim, and when he could finally form a calm, coherent sentence, Spock said merely, “I wish to take you back to our new home now.” Simple words. Not a simple task, after our marathon physical exertions. But we had carefully made our way back to our camp and the conveniences we now relied on.

“I can’t believe you watched when I was bathing that first day we explored the lake.” This had been one of the first surprises I picked up through our newly formed marital bond.

“No more than you sneaking to look at me," Spock countered. "But is it truly unexpected? I am an intelligent man, one who appreciates beautiful works of art, Ashaya. Both logical reasons for stealing glances at your unclothed form in the water. Your nude body most likely instigated my Pon Farr.”

I smacked him playfully on top of his head. He bent his head backward to my shoulder and looked into my eyes with fake offense, before my mouth took possession of his in an upside-down kiss.

“Funny, you never used to lie before the blood fever, as I recall,” I teased, leaning back again. “But then, if that’s what it takes to get your handsome bare butt between my legs like this, then prevaricate away, Commander.”

He sat up and turned around, now sitting on his knees between mine, cradling my face in his hands.

“You, young lady, have brought out a lot of my inner savage Vulcan in the past few weeks. I find myself indulging in all these sexually graphic thoughts every time you are near.” He bent and tickled the end of my nose with his.

“Not to point out the obvious," I reminded him, "but I’ve pretty much not been out of your sight or touch for days.”

“Precisely. For a Human, you have been quite…vigorous. I could only endeavor to keep up with you.” His sparkling brown eyes were so gorgeous when he flirted. Of course, they were gorgeous when he didn’t flirt, too, as I had determined long ago on the ship.

And who knew Vulcans flirted anyway? His eyes created stirrings in me, even now. As my gaze traveled down his body, I saw he had been stirred, too.

“I believe it is my turn to wash you, my wife. Exchange places with me?”

As I moved to sit between his legs, I asked, “Am I your wife, Spock? Even without an official ceremony of any kind? Does bonding mean the same as marriage in Vulcan culture?”

“You are the wife of my heart and of my life now. Bonding is most equivalent to marriage though much deeper and more permanent because of the woven strands between us. When we are rescued, if you desire, we will have an official Terran marriage ceremony with family and colleagues in attendance, wherever you prefer. And I wish to take you to Vulcan for our bond to be confirmed by our family matriarch, T'Pau."

"I dreamed of visiting Vulcan. I never imagined it would finally happen for this purpose."

He was not merely cleansing me as we talked. He was massaging muscles and playing and teasing, his fingers constantly plying my skin. I tingled at his every touch and my thoughts drifted...

_"Ah. I am amenable to that idea, Ashaya."_

"But I didn’t say anything yet, Spock!"

_"It was not required. I feel your wish here through our bond. You were picturing in your mind a ceremony here, just the two of us some evening at sunset by the lake. And then making love all night. I find your wish most agreeable."_

“Really, Spock? I never would have imagined you indulging my romantic whims." I thrummed with the pleasure of his touch and his thoughts playing in my mind. "It sounds magical, everything I always dreamed of. Except for not having a fairy tale wedding dress. But still, all I really want is my groom. The most important one is here.” My hands reached back to stroke his cheeks.  
  
_"All you need do is picture yourself in your thoughts, wearing the dress of your dreams, and I will see you as such. Oh, I see you are picturing me in...formal Vulcan robes, a black velvet, I believe. Your thoughts are indeed vivid. I believe you will need to restrain from inserting your fingers through the folds for the real ceremony or I will not make it to the final pronouncement."_

His soapy fingers became more exploratory and I, of course, melted at his touch.

_"Spock…I love you. I just can't believe all this. Never in my wildest imaginings, for so long. I revere you."_

I flipped over and climbed onto his lap, arms around his neck, looking down into his eyes, my knees on either side of his hips. His responsive body obviously awaited me. “I’m ready for another Pon Farr, my love. Seven years is too long to wait.”

“This is our planet now, T'nash-veh princess. We make our own laws. Pon Farr every day is hereby decreed.” He flashed his tiny Vulcan smile, lifted me and gently seated me onto his hardness.

I trembled at the pleasure of his body. His love. The wild, impossible wish I had when first I bathed alone in this water weeks ago was now coming true. My husband created wave after wave with his pulsating rhythm. It was an intoxicating moment, and I realized it wasn’t the splashing water wetting my cheeks. I wept with joy as I observed yet again how my dreams were all coming true, with this man I loved with all my being. 

Our passions reaching fever pitch as Spock caressed my face, we shared an intense climax so different from those of his madness. As the water lapped at us, cradling us, rocking us, comforting us, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect unity between our hearts and souls. 

Afterward, as we lay back in the sand, fingers intertwined, enjoying the expansive blue sky, I began thinking back over the past few weeks.

“Spock, I have some questions. Now that you’ve admitted sneaking looks at me that first day here, are there...other moments that hide secrets from me?"

His thoughts spoke to me through the bond, which was the most joyous thing I had ever experienced—this pure oneness, nothing hidden, nothing shielded from each other, nothing standing between us. Pure intellect. Pure emotion. 

 _"It is comforting to observe your mind, Anne, reading more of_ my _thoughts there every time we join. Perhaps you are correct. You are now ready to know complete truth. I perceive some of your questionings._

_"Yes, Anne, when the radiation spewed from the crater, I felt my heart rage with fear of losing you. I had already developed a strong regard for you. Yes, I instinctively grabbed you, making sure I did everything possible to see that you lived, carrying you and running more quickly than I ever have in my life. I apologize that it caused you concern or embarrassment when I did not answer you fully last time you inquired. I did not know your feelings for me. I was unaware how you would respond to that truth._

_"Yes, I had noticed you every time I visited in engineering. How could I not—your brilliant, quick mind; inquisitive, innovative. And aesthetically pleasing. I was always aware of you._ _You are blushing even in your thoughts?"_

_"I don't know what to say, Spock. I had hoped. But I am stunned to learn the truth."_

_"'Adorable,' Lieutenant?"_

Oops. I didn't know yet how to shield any thoughts from my husband as yet. He caught me.

 _"You thought of me as adorable? I may need to 'bust you' all the way down to ensign."_ Spock winked at me. My _adorable_ Vulcan actually winked at me, and I could feel his amusement. I didn’t know that was possible, either.

“All right, Mr. Spock, what is your _ensign_ thinking now?” I asked out loud.

 _"Why, Anne, it is my turn to blush. So you have changed your mind? You now determine that sex with me_ is _more exciting than your first bath in the lake?"_

“Spock! I wasn’t thinking that! I mean, not this minute! How did you pick that up?” So Spock could pick up thoughts from the past that I wasn't even concentrating on at the moment.

“You are an open book to me now, in matters of heart and joining.” His eyes danced with pleasure. "But if you truly wish, I will teach you how to shield your more private thoughts you do not want to share."

_“Oh my God, Spock. You were hoping I would sneak a look at you while you bathed. You actually wanted me to see you naked. You cad! You actually came in the water, thinking of me? I certainly didn't see that part! Spock...that is so...hot. Sometime, you will have to reenact that scene for me. Mmm..."_

I spoke audibly again. "I was so in love with you, there was no way I was going to let the opportunity pass to see how handsome your entire body was. I thought it might be the only chance I would ever have.”

Spock grabbed me, his arms pulling me closer, his lips in my hair. “You are my beloved. I will never grow tired of what I perceive in your mind when you look at my body, clothed or unclothed. I can now see your thoughts as your eyes followed me at the costume party, as I moved around the room, approaching your table. Anne, I did not attend because of protocol. The captain's presence alone was required. I only attended the party because I was aware you would be there. I wanted to see you out of uniform and in character. You were enchanting to me that evening.”

“I am out of uniform right now, Commander,” I reminded, coquettishly batting my eyelashes at him. 

“I would not have missed seeing how beautiful you looked that evening. You took my breath away even then. I struggled to control my physiology as we conversed at your table. When you greeted me in my native language.”

_"Anne, one more thing. Watching you exercise—lifting the weights we built, spotting for you. I lost all ability to focus and hide my  body's response to your enticing movements. I determined the only way to aid you but not reveal my lust was to join you."_

“That was a nice move, Mr. Spock. I had no idea. I wish I had holos of that. I bet you looked so cute all flustered!”

_"'Cute,' ensign? Do you not fear being completely stripped of rank?"_

“Baby, I'll stay stripped of rank or of anything else for the rest of my life, if you promise you will be too.”

He rolled me back down into the sand and crushed my mouth with his. Those eyes. A Vulcan with twinkling eyes. His people must hide many secrets, as here he was, sparkling down at me.

He kissed his way down my neck, mouthing my skin noisily. It was the most obscenely decadent sound, and I never grew tired of it. Spock explored my skin once again, as though my body was a strange, new world. I guess for this strong, controlled Vulcan, I was.

And then suddenly, as Spock pressed kisses into my abdomen, he froze in place.

“What? What, Spock? What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

"I perceive a new presence. It is a tiny shadow, but it is there. Anne—you are pregnant."


	14. Dreams Of A Life

“No, Spock! No!”

Panic jolted me to my feet. My mind raced wildly, as I aimlessly started running.

 _No…not this way. Not now. No!_  Tears blinded me as I worked my way through vines and around thick underbrush.

“No.” I sobbed, my body shaking so violently that I stumbled.

He, of course, reached me in no time and caught me by the arms. He spun me around and gathered my wet, naked body against his bare skin, unwavering arms hugging around me as though he could stop my shudders by the sheer strength of his will.

“Anne….Anne, don’t cry. It will be okay.” He cradled and rocked me in his arms.

“No! No, it won’t, Spock. It can’t be okay. Don’t you see? We can’t have a baby here! Not here. It’s not fair to the child, it’s not right. You have to be wrong. Check again! No, you just…you have to be wrong!"

“Ashaya, I am monitoring as I hold you, skin to skin. Our bond is vibrant and glowing. There is a murmur inside you that was not there before. There is no mistake." His eyes were pleading, a look I'd never seen before on Spock's face.

“But Anne, since the moment we bonded, I have often sensed how much you want children. You thought you would never be a mother because you loved me, and I could never return your love. But now you know." He pulled back and took my hands in his. "I love you deeply, Anne." He nuzzled his face into the top of my head, whispering soft Vulcan words. "The first realization you sensed when we bonded was my regard for you. And we have created this child from our love for each other. And I will adore our child, as I do its mother.” I could feel Spock pushing calm through our connection, but my terror was overwhelming.

“Spock, this is madness! We’re abandoned. We're totally alone.” I  began to struggle against him, on the edge of hyperventilating. “There’s just the two of us. There’s no one to do the things we don’t know how to do. We can _not_ have a baby here. What if something happened to us—to you, to me? And a helpless child was left alone?

“No, you HAVE to be wrong. It's something else. I'm sick...or maybe it's the exhaustion. Let’s get the tricorder. Check me, scan me with instruments. You have to be wrong!”

I was out of my mind with emotions I couldn’t even put a name to. I pushed Spock away and started running again…frantic, without direction. I didn’t know what to do.

I would _never_ abort a baby. Never. But what if this baby died no matter what I did, what _we_ did, no matter what I chose? As I ran, all I could see was a toddler, walking toward the lake, calling for its dead mother or father, and we weren’t there to protect it.

All I could see was death and horror. No!

“Anne, stop!” Spock yelled at me, running with the tricorder. “You must stop! Anne, you are bleeding!”

Of course I wasn’t bleeding. I didn’t feel any pain. This wasn’t about me.

As he again reached me, Spock scooped me up in his arms, and even through my hysteria, his actions reminded me of a prince in a fairy tale.

“Anne, your feet. You have severely gashed them on the rocks. I have to treat your wounds.”

I stared down at my feet, both dripping red. I was so confused...I felt nothing... totally detached from what I saw.

Spock laid me back on the sand of the lake shore and gently rinsed the blood away. He gathered some of the plants we discovered had medicinal effects and slit their stalks, dripping their slimy clear substance on all my cuts and punctures.

It was then I finally looked and saw that Spock’s feet were covered in green blood also. He was cut from chasing after me. Shame enveloped me—he was injured because of my thoughtless actions.

_“Do not think that way, Ashaya. I will be fine.”_

“Is that better?” Spock had finished cleaning and treating each wound.

I looked into his eyes. “It’s not…anything. I don’t feel anything. I can’t feel anything. Please, sit down here and I’ll attend to your wounds.”

Suddenly I remembered the woman who wept and cleaned Jesus’s feet with her tears, wiping them with her long hair. I was sure my salty tears would sting Spock’s cuts, but he never said a word. I ministered to his wounds with the plant salve and settled beside him.

_“Do not run away again, Anne. You may not feel the pain of your injuries now, but you will as your body calms.“_

“My wife, I understand you did not consider this possibility when we were mating during Pon Farr. I did not believe I could father a child. My parents's genetic material required alteration for my conception. As your mind settles, you may become angry at me for not telling you. But the madness overtook my logic.

"Among Vulcans, mating and conceiving is the biological purpose of our blood fever. Vulcans know this from childhood and are gratified by this result.”

“Spock, I’m not freaked out about becoming pregnant. Only about our captivity. I love you so much—you're right, there is nothing I would love more than to have your baby, created from our love. But the prospect of anything catastrophic happening while we’re here is more than I can bear.”

“I will keep you safe, Ashaya. I will allow nothing to hurt you or our child. It will know its mother and father. I know it is very soon after our confessions of desire to join our lives, but we are now three. We will take further measures to remain safe, and I will increase my attempts to communicate with any ship passing within range that could rescue us.

“Please, Anne—do not run away again. Allow me to meld with you and give you comfort.”

Of course, even now I invited Spock directly into my mind without reservation of any kind. I would forever be completely available to him, as we both needed.

“Spock, I have known I loved you, wanted you, for so long. But until this moment, I didn’t realize the extent to which I _need_ you. What if when I was running, I had fallen or done something stupid accidentally that caused me to lose our baby? In that case, I would not know how to deal with myself. Or causing you injury? I am so sorry Spock that you had to run after me and were injured, too. I would never...”

_“I am aware, Anne. I know your heart and the depth of your emotions. I know your longing for a baby with me. I know this was your dream.“_

“My wife, it will be your dream again. Lie back here in the grass and I will run the tricorder over you again, just to make sure everything is alright. The fetus will be in an active state of cell division and growth. In the same way you and I now have a bond through which we feel each other, even before birth I will be able to develop a familial bond with our baby and monitor its development.”

“That's incredible, Spock. That's nothing short of a miracle. I just...it’s so sudden. I wasn’t prepared. I hadn’t even considered…”

The tricorder whirred its scan as Spock hovered over me. “Please slow your breathing so your heartrate will lower. I am concerned for you.”

I tried tamping down my panic with deeper breaths, which in turn I knew would slow my pulse.

“There. That is much improved.” The worry in Spock's eyes eased...a little.

He lay down beside me in the soft grass. “It will be weeks before you feel the child growing inside you. I know you are concerned this is your first child and you have no doctor.”

“First child, Mr. Spock? I guess there are many things we have not discussed yet. Such as, how many children you want.”

“As many as you wish, beloved. I am….happy with just you. With just one child. With many children. All I require for my happiness to be complete...is you.”

And then my husband turned and climbed over me, completing my happiness by joining it with his own.


	15. The Dream Team

"Spock, stop fidgeting!"

"Madam, Vulcans do not fidget."  
  
See, here is where a hidden holovid set on "record" at all times would have come in handy to provide living proof that to the contrary, this Vulcan was fidgeting to beat the band, as my granddaddy always said. I couldn't blame Spock—he was standing on a chair to allow me easier access as I manipulated my latest iteration of plant fiber weavings around his luscious body, which was no easy task these days, reaching around my expansive baby-girth. And making it even more difficult, our little one was kicking restlessly, imitating Tarzan swinging on my already sore ribs. 

"Babe, we're running out of time to develop a stronger fabric." Of course, almost a year ago when first stranded on M547, we had no idea we'd have to replace our clothes from scratch. We definitely could never have foreseen we’d need something to use as diapers for a newborn. "What I wouldn't give for a herd of hair sheep to wander by right about now,” I pouted, playfully swatting my sexy husband on the butt.

Nobody in the universe would believe this scene playing out between us. But of course, were anyone able to see it, we wouldn't be doing this in the first place.

“I find this method unnecessary for testing tensile strength," my antsy prince chided.

“If you have a better idea, babe, I’m all ears…uh, no offense, my love.” I flashed Spock my sexiest smile, because that's all I had to offer in exchange for his mannequin services. At almost nine months pregnant, a lot of me was out of love commission for awhile. "You and I need new clothing as much as the baby will. And of course, nothing has fit me in forever. As much as I love living here in our private little nudist colony, I won’t be able to time the baby’s bodily functions to prevent us getting sprayed—or worse."

My husband turned up his nose, another Vulcan surprise move. “I find your point highly logical. And speaking of logic, are you ready for me to reveal the sex of our child yet?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure how that has anything to do with logic, but I know _you_ know, Spock. I’m just not ready for you to tell me yet. I promise it'll be soon and I’ll be excited, no matter what. Now, hold your arms up again, please, and turn all the way around.”

“Vulcans do not stand naked with their arms up, turning circles before strange women. Nor do they model diaper prototypes.”

“Well, one tiny Vulcan will need these soon enough. We have to make sure our baby has every advantage we can give him. Her. Whatever. Wait, are you implying that I'm 'strange,' Mr. Spock? I did not hear you complaining this morning when you lifted your arms as my lips were..."

"Ashaya," he sternly interrupted. "May I step down now?"

"Yes, alright." I shook my head and giggled as his cheeks brightened with green, amazed that after almost nine months of sharing our lives and our bodies, including those first wild days of Pon Farr, my charming mate could still feel shy when I mentioned lavishing his skin with my mouth.

“You are positive you do not wish me to tell you now?”

“I am positive that your excitement as a proud father is one of the most endearing things I've ever watched. But it’s not like we’re furnishing the baby’s room in Terran pink or blue. The important thing is its health. That's what I love you telling me about every day.”

“Then perhaps you would prefer sharing your results regarding this new cloth I wear. I sense your disapproval.”

I sighed, shaking my head. "This must be my twenty-seventh failed attempt. I'm just not sure it’s durable enough yet. I wear this when you start getting feisty and it’s going to be shredded within seconds. Maybe even when I get feisty." I waggled my eyebrows at him, teasing.

Spock reached his fingers to me in the ozh'esta, a mischievous glint in his eye.“Truthfully, Ashaya, any cloth that dares get between your body and mine will be shredded, no matter what its origin.” He bent closer to share a Human kiss that held way too much heat for my present condition.  Spock had assured me his personal mission during my pregnancy was to prove he still found me desirable, in spite of the shape of my body and the weight I was required to gain for our baby's health. Turned out, he was extremely convincing.

We had been diligent to continue our research and plant husbandry, and we had built several useful items over the past year. This clothes thing was our last major hurdle.

Spock designed and crafted the most gorgeous, ornate cradle for our newborn, the top edges adorned with Vulcan carvings and familial symbols. It made my heart ache with love for him, to watch him taking such care in preparing for our little family's needs, making sure our baby was surrounded by acceptance and love for both his Vulcan and Terran sides, from the moment of his birth.

Spock had also devised a method using some kind of energized crystals, native and plentiful to M547, for boosting our distress signal, so we were hopeful that within a short time, someone would pick up our transmissions and rescue us.

And...I already knew our precious baby was a boy. I didn’t have proof, and I couldn’t explain it, but I always knew practically from conception that Spock and I were having a son.

Sometimes I felt a little guilty carrying on my ruse of not wanting Spock to tell me himself. I knew he was “bursting at the seams” to share the news with me. I couldn’t explain why I was holding back, just preserving something private and special between my son and myself.

Could it be that even though I was Human, somehow my Vulcan child created a familial bond between us as his father did with him; some kind of mental umbilical cord, so that while he was growing inside me, I experienced my own sense of his presence?

I loved my son so much.  _Our_ son. The child I always dreamed of having, but had reconciled in my heart that it could never happen.

And I loved Spock even more for giving me this gift of motherhood and fulfilling my last dream, unexpected as it was. I hadn't fully understood until I navigated this almost nine-month process for myself how it changes a person emotionally and mentally.

Even though intellectually I knew pregnancy and parenting were different for each individual, I never could have imagined how magical this entire experience would be for me personally. Gone were my maniacal fears of parenting on this deserted planet. I found serenity in the knowledge we were as prepared as possible to safeguard our son's life, as was not all that different from the precautions any other parent takes for their children, no matter the locale or population.  
  
Spock and our child would long surpass me in years and would always have each other after our rescue. I placed them both in the hands of the loving God I worshiped. I would be at peace at my end, whenever that turned out to be. I smiled as I imagined the love of father for son and son for father, something Spock never perceived from Ambassador Sarek. Our son would always know without question that his parents' loved him, as we loved each other.

My mate interrupted my reverie. "I have found three new phyla of plants you might consider weaving into this textile. Perhaps the combination will provide results that pass the scrutiny of Lieutenant Saunders' specifications.”

I chuckled, "It’s not like I’m trying to engineer a crown for our little prince, Spock. I’m just try…uh...oh...” Spock's eyes grew wide as I reddened at my slip up. I'd never been able to control my tongue very well when I was happy—which, I was. Extremely so.

“How long have you known?” Spock asked, exasperated and cocking that slanted eyebrow at me. “I have inquired for 7.6 months if you wanted to know what we were having and you said you did not.  
  
"And how _do_ you know?”

“Baby, truthfully, you've asked me if I wanted you to _tell_ me the sex, not whether I wanted to know. And, I can't explain how I know, or why I yearned to just share this secret with our son for a little while. It's all a mystery to me. But now that I’ve let the proverbial cat out of the bag—Spock! Oh my God. We’re having a son!”

Spock glowed with the brightest smile as his reached and pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “Ashayam, our sa-fu. Even with the struggles we face, I have never felt such contentment. He is healthy and growing, his body strong and complete. Soon we will both get to meet him face to face and hold him. I am…happy.” He swept me up in his arms and swung me carefully around in circles. 

“I feel your joy through our bond, Spock. I never dreamed love could be this sweet!"

He set my feet back to ground and kissed me so deeply, I felt it in my toes. My entire body tingled as though caught up in a transporter beam, shimmering into a million points of light.

As I knelt back away from his face, I gazed into those gorgeous, chocolate eyes. "So what shall we name him? What would be a good Vulcan name for your clan?”

"He does not require a Vulcan name. We may call him anything we find acceptable.”

“You are so magnanimous, ‘Daddy.’  And you have admirably performed your diplomatic duty to me.

 _"Now,_ Spock, what Vulcan name do you wish to convey upon your son? You’ve had weeks to think about it, and I’m sure you have done exactly that.” My eyes crinkled with amusement that my husband was playing so coy with me.

“Ashaya, what is your father’s name?”

“My father's name is Hugh and I love my dad very much, but we’re not going there. But would you like to name him Sarek after your father? Or maybe Spock, Junior?”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Anne, and no, we shall not be using the term 'junior,' either."

“We could here on the planet if you like," I suggested. "As you said, it’s our planet now and we make the laws. And after all, we are running out of time, Commander.”

“Humans usually choose more than one name. I believe it would be logical if you chose one name and I the other.”

“I adore that idea, Spock. What name do you choose?”

“I would choose...no, I believe I will wait to tell you until after you pick your name, as punishment for not revealing you knew about our son. You have been a very bad girl."

"Spock! Stop that. Did you forget I can see what you're thinking? And I won't be able to do that for another six weeks! And anyway, your bulge is going to tear through my hard work." I stroked my finger along the length of his hardness before I realized that might be cruel.

“But if it does not tear, Ashaya, I believe that is significant proof this material passes your final test with flying colors, as you say.”

My darling Spock wiggled provocatively and removed my creation with no damage at all. And then capturing my hand, he led me back to our cabin, to lie on the bed we had shared these past almost nine months.

Hovering over me, his strong, gorgeous cock practically leapt into my mouth, where I blissfully sighed, tasting every growing inch of him, mouthing his dick with such hunger and need, manipulating his body from every possible angle, as he protected my swollen belly. My tongue wildly tickled and tasted the stretched skin, pulling the most delicious sounds from his throat as passion drove my Vulcan to orgasm. His entire body shuddered and drew itself tightly into coming down my throat, filling me with the essence of his life once more. His head hung and his shoulders squeezed in the effort to pump out his very last drop.

My womb throbbed as though it could tempt me to pull my beautiful husband inside. But of course, that would not be healthy for the little boy who would breathe air and see sunshine for the first time in mere days.

Spock lay back beside me and pulled me into his arms—no small task, literally. He whispered my name lovingly into my ear as he nosed into my hair, and then turned his full attention on kissing his taste from my lips.

If a woman could overdose on sheer love, then I was, addicted to this Vulcan who gave himself to me in the one way I could receive him safely. I had the silly imagination that my pupils had turned heart-shaped in the past year, as I was more madly in love with my husband with each passing day...  

...And as each moment brought us closer to the joyous birth of our son, Jon Surev S’chn T’gai.


	16. Burden of Dreams

Sometimes when we took a break from whatever task we were involved in, we'd lazily lie in the soft, luscious grass, Spock’s face and fingertips on my swollen tummy, reaching out to the new little life through their Vulcan familial bond—monitoring the baby’s heartbeat and brain activity or just feeling him wiggle around. Spock had been melding with me the very first time I felt the baby move. We both were so excited that we celebrated with a midnight swim that turned into one of the most beautiful times of making love we had ever experienced. So sweet and gentle...and rapturous.

My husband was the kind of man dreams were made of. He made my heart sing, as he melted me with his touch. I could never, ever get enough of his love, his passion, if I lived forever. Nothing in the universe was anything like being loved by Spock.

Sometimes it seemed our son would stretch his leg or arm, and we could actually see the shape of a foot or elbow bulging outward. Spock would tickle that spot until the baby moved, relieving the stretch a little bit. It was nothing short of magical. I loved watching Spock play with his son this way. He would often caress my tummy with both hands, gently rubbing his face there as though trying to kiss the baby, while reverently speaking Vulcan words against my skin.

Surev had always been active and lively, and we were thrilled with the state of his health as he formed and grew.

It was the beginning of sunset one evening, as we sat on the lake bank finishing our evening meal of soup, entranced by the myriad of reflected colors dancing on the waves lapping the shore, when I felt a quickening inside. There was no pain—just an awareness I had never felt before.

It was finally time!

Being that our child was three-fourths human, and judging from Spock’s observations through their bond, we had surmised Surev's gestation period would be closer to that of a human, rather than the longer time of native Vulcans. The baby had dropped and the pressure was much lower now as his arrival was very close.

But this feeling was welcome. I would dare say it even felt good—just waves pulsing within my womb.

Spock knew immediately what was happening, through our bond and through his with the baby.

I was both happy that it was almost time and apprehensive of the next hours to come, as I would enter labor with no pain medication. Because we had no way to evaluate how any of the medicinal plants would affect a developing child, I had taken nothing for the entire pregnancy and would not be taking anything now. This was not about me. This was about the safety and health of our son.

But that didn’t make me any less apprehensive. I often worried about how large a baby's head was and how small my opening, realizing there was only one way our son was coming out. That dread kept me awake more nights than I would admit.

And yet, now I was rethinking everything I had ever heard about human childbirth. “Spock, if this is labor, what in the world have expectant mothers been complaining about? This is nothing.  It's not even pain at all—it’s actually pretty easy.”

I had once watched a foal born. The mare didn’t act as though giving birth hurt her at all: in fact, she would get up and walk around her stall with the foal hanging halfway out of her, and it seemed to neither hurt her nor her offspring.

Ok, if a horse could do it, maybe I could. Not the walking around part for sure, but maybe minus the intense pain I feared.

“If it continues as such, I will be gratified, especially under our circumstances. I will, if you become more uncomfortable, meld with you and attempt to make your labor easier.”

Spock hugged me closer, massaging my back. “This is it, Ashayam. It will never again just be the two of us. It will always be three.”

“It _will_ be very different. I love being with you, just the two of us. But I'm prepared to enjoy the three of us together. I can't even imagine how amazing it will be.”

We had decided on a water birth, since the lake was right there, the temperature just perfect, and it always had a calming effect on me. Spock had researched everything available on the medical information stored on his PADD about facilitating delivery. We were ready. We held hands and smiled a lot, our bond communicating for us.

Three hours later, after my water broke, I found out exactly what others had been complaining about. I was practically screaming in agony. Even when the Galileo crashed, I had not known such pain. I was writhing, as Spock kept encouraging me to take tiny sips of water while he placed cool, wet cloths on my face. He would place his fingers on my psi-points and attempt to ease the pain. He continually scanned both our son and me and monitored our physical stress. So far, pain aside, all readouts were normal—nothing unexpected.

The worst part, though, was the unusual lack of relief between contractions which I had read most mothers experienced. I never knew when one contraction ended and another began. My intense pain was constant with no rest at all. There was no chance to breathe through the contractions the way I had practiced. And the pain in my lower back was excruciating.

I kept trying to stay lucid enough to monitor Spock’s spirit through our bond for any undo sign of uneasiness, but he was obviously shielding anything but positive reactions from me. Still, I felt his concern—he was definitely affected by my suffering and troubled by what it might mean for the baby’s vital signs over an extended time.

Hour after hour passed this way, and I was becoming exhausted. With no pain relief, I couldn’t catch even a few moments of sleep. I had always heard it was called “labor” for a reason, and that was truer than I could have ever imagined. Spock was vigilant, but even he was growing fatigued from reaching out to both of us to ease and comfort.

I finally lost my voice from growling for so long with the pain. This labor was nothing like I had read about. I was beginning to lose my sanity from the never ending misery and stress.  
  
After two more hours like this, I saw in Spock’s eyes and felt through our bond that something was horribly wrong. In his exhaustion, Spock's emotional control was beginning to crack to the point he couldn't hide his anguish. He pulled me into his arms tightly as he tried to soften what he now had to tell me.

“Anne...my Anne. You have been such a strong mother tonight, all these hours. Ashaya, there is a problem.

“The umbilical cord is caught between the baby’s shoulder and your pelvis, and with each contraction, his heart rate is dropping.”

“What?" I shook my head, not understanding. "Then take him out, Spock. Just perform a caesarean section procedure and get him out. I know you can do this!”

“Anne, I cannot. The baby has already progressed too far down the birth canal to safely separate him from you.” His voice broke with resignation and fatigue.

“Tell me what you mean. What do I do then? What do we do?"

“I do not know. Anne, the baby cannot survive this way much longer, and...you cannot, either. I...I will not lose you both. But I am not sure how to save either of you at this critical stage. Our limited medical information does not include instructions regarding procedures in such an extreme crisis. We need a real doctor. Anne, I am sorry. I am failing you. I am failing our son.”

Spock's face was wet, something I never thought I would see. I knew he would not be weeping unless the situation was grave.

I was in such agony that it took effort to whisper. “Spock—save the baby. You can cut me open and get him out and save him. You can’t save me, but you can save him! Hurry, baby—do it now!”

“I CANNOT! Anne, you…I...I cannot. I cannot lose you. I love you. You are my heart. My life.” Spock began to sob with the weight of this inevitability.

“Spock,” I pushed to whisper as sterenly as I could. “Baby. Listen...to...me. _You can’t save me_. I'm sorry. But I'm going to die and there's nothing now you can do about it now.

"But you can save Surev. Spock, at least you can save our son. Save him—or you lose us both anyway. You condemn us _both_ to die if you don't. Baby, you have to do this. You _have_ to. You have no choice, my love. Now."

"I cannot. I will not!" Spock cried, foolishly stubborn.

"Then Spock," I stared right into his eyes, "you will bury us both."

He screamed to the sky, "No! No. Anne, where is your God now? I hate him," Spock raged. "I hate him for doing this to you. To our son. I will never forgive him for this. For abandoning us here and then killing you. I will never forgive him." His entire body raged with fury.

"Spock—meld with me. Now!" I had never heard of a Vulcan losing control this way.

Through his tears, his just blinked at me.

"Spock, now. Meld." I grabbed his hand and forced his fingers onto my face so I could communicate with him without the limits of spoken words.

 _"My love, Surev is God's gift to you, a part of me for you to keep all your life. I'm going to the father in just a few moments. But I will always be there, waiting for you. You will always feel me at your side._  
  
_"Feel my heart, Spock. Feel my love. My love for you and Surev. My love for God. Baby...now feel God's love for me, for us. It's there, real and shining._  
  
"It's okay to grieve—to be angry. But Surev needs you now. And you both need God's help. Don't push either of them away, Spock. Everything in my life has brought me to this moment. God knew from the beginning that this moment would come. This was my destiny, my sweet Spock. Do you really want to spend my last moments of life yelling at the God who created all three of us?"

"I cannot do this, Anne. I cannot kill you! How could I..."

_"I'm just a vessel, Ashayam. I was here to present you with your son. God, how I love you, Spock. Thank you for giving me the most glorious year of my life, for fulfilling all my dreams. I’d rather have one beautiful year with you, my love, than to live the way I was but never know your love. I choose you and our son.”_

He squeezed me tighter to his chest, his body shaking from deep, mournful sobs. I fought hard against my own tears. Spock needed my strength, not my weakness. 

_"Baby, look at me." I leaned back away from him. "Spock, I’m ready. Just—kiss me one last time. And always tell our son how much I loved him from the second I knew he existed. But you have to do this right now. Hurry."_

I never dreamed I would ever see Spock a broken man. But in this moment, his agony was as great as my own. But I knew he could do this. I loved him even more in these final seconds than ever. My husband was going to save my son’s life, and I owed him everything for that.

Spock, shoulders quaking, tears streaming down his face, reached his lips to mine, but he was breathing so hard from his extreme emotions that he couldn't really kiss me. He held his wet cheek to mine and I felt him push all his love through our bond.

He lay me gently back down on the sand and left to bring the instruments he needed. The procedure would be painful but quick. And it would be worth it. When he returned to my side, he tried to kiss me again, but I pushed him away.

“You have to hurry. It's the only logical thing to do and you know it! Do it!” Spock’s face contorted as I’d never seen on anyone.

I whispered and smiled weakly, "I’ll...see you on the other side in a couple of centuries. Promise me you will live long...and prosper.”

I closed my eyes and prepared to be cut open. I heard Spock manipulate the tools and take a deep, shuddering breath. 


	17. Island of Lost Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Beautiful artwork below chapter created by and used by special permission of amazing artist, Mylochka_

“ **STOP**!”

"Cap, let me shoot 'im. This guy's a monster!"

My eyes shocked open, pain blurring my vision. What a strange time to start hallucinating. Maybe it was my brain's way of protecting itself or preparing to die. But it seemed so real. I could almost believe I was looking at a human wearing some kind of uniform, holding a blaster against Spock's left ear, while a second armed man, who appeared to be this "Cap" person, threatened from a few feet away, his weapon also pointed at my husband. I could understand my conjuring up someone to rescue us, since we'd waited so long to be found. But to imagine someone just to threaten us?

Hallucination man #2 ignored the request of #1 and waved his weapon off to the side, barking at Spock, “Hands in the air where I can see them! Get over here away from that woman NOW!” I blinked hard until my eyes cleared enough that I could see several other imaginary people wearing different garb, looming off in the background, keeping close eye on us all. 

The hallucination of Spock glanced back and forth from me to their leader, unsure what to do. The closest officer grabbed Spock by the arm and yanked him to his feet, shoving him toward their commander, who caught him and pushed Spock back down to his knees, now targeting Spock's face.

" _Anne! These men are not a hallucination,_ " I clearly heard Spock push through our bond. I realized this meant the worst. Not only were our baby and I going to die now, Spock was going to be killed, too. My blood turned to ice as all hope vanished.

A third man appeared from nowhere, rushing to my side and squatting down while he ran some sort of scanner over me. “Ma’am! Ma'am, are you alright? You’re safe now. We won’t let that animal hurt you! Let’s get you up to our ship!”

“Wait! Stop! That’s my husband!” I reached out and grabbed his arm, shaking him to force his attention as I coughed, frustrated I had no voice. There was no way he could hear me so I pulled him down to my mouth.

“We have to hurry," I whispered frantically. "He’s my husband. Our baby is dying. He’s going to save our son's life! Leave us alone! Let him do what he has to do.”

“Ma’am, I’m our ship’s medical officer,” he replied, now running a second larger device across my body. "Why are you in labor on this God-forsaken planet?” 

“They are dying,” Spock cried. "Time is critical. The umbilical cord..."

"I see it! I'm actually the trained one here, not you," the doctor snapped at Spock. "Your baby has transitioned partially through the cervix, too far for a C-Section procedure, but that's no problem, and for damned sure it's not terminal. Our transporter can scan you both and separate the baby's body from yours as we beam up to the ship." He turned back to me asking, "Ma’am, are you saying this man was not trying to kill you?”

“No. Yes. No! I mean, he had to kill me to save our son.” I whispered desperately with all the strength I had remaining, on the edge of losing consciousness from the extreme pain I no longer could bear.

The captain pulled out a communication device and shouted into it, “Radner! We have the human and that pointy-eared guy we’ve been monitoring. The human is in labor and in danger of losing the baby. Here's the doc to tell you what to do.” He quickly tossed his comm at the physician who deftly plucked it out of the air.

The doctor provided detailed instructions to this Radner who would be beaming us up, during which our son's body would separate from mine so that when we rematerialized in their ship, the baby would be born and outside of me, hopefully no longer in distress or danger. The doctor was ticking off a list of equipment he wanted brought to the transporter room by the time of our arrival. I was praying this doctor knew how to perform this intricate procedure which, he sternly warned Radner, must be strictly calculated without error, or both Surev and I would be dead on arrival. Only he would accompany me for this first transport.

Spock had already expended every last bit of emotional control he had. He was now just like any father overwhelmed by absolute panic and fear. “Are you certain this is the safest way to proceed? You can transport Anne with the baby inside and perform surgery there without further endangering them both. I…I insist you do this!”

The doctor growled, “Your baby’s time has run out! There’s no other way, or you lose him.” He yelled into the comm, “Let’s go Rad! Get us up there now!”

I was enveloped by shimmering light as I saw the look of horror on Spock’s face. We did not know these men. He was trusting the two people he loved more than anything in life with complete strangers, two of whom had just threatened to kill him.

Seconds later, I appeared, lying on the floor in some kind of transporter device, nothing like ours on the Enterprise. As I blinked my tears away, I saw first the room filled with huge industrial equipment; pipes and walkways, all designed for function rather than aesthetics. I refocused my eyes to look down my body and finally saw and felt my baby lying on top of my stomach as the doctor dropped to his knees, scanning Surev’s vital signs.

The umbilical cord was still attached to my son, the other end extending inside me, apparently still connected to the placenta. I was flooded with relief that Surev had a better chance with his circulation and oxygen still protected, no matter what else happened now. I also was astonished to see the umbilical cord was mostly green. Vulcan green. I could not even imagine how that was possible, with my blood running through his veins, but then Spock’s mother was human, and Spock's blood was green. I quickly decided I didn’t have to understand. All that mattered was that Surev was miraculously alive.

I watched the doctor expertly cut and tie off the cord, lifting Surev up into his arms to suction the amniotic fluid from his nose and mouth. I held my breath, waiting to hear any sound from this limp little being with precious pointed ears. He was absolutely beautiful and his body appeared perfectly formed.

As soon as Surev was disconnected from my bloodstream, someone attached an oxygen mask to my face which must have also carried something to deaden pain, as my physical agony of the past few hours was instantly dulled. Now that Surev would not be affected by anything circulating through my body, I began gulping in huge amounts of oxygen and medication, in desperate attempt to make all the pain stop. Now I could focus all my attention on my precious baby.

“God, please!” I begged through my spirit. “Please breathe life into our son. Bless this child with your life. Thank you for saving us! Oh, sweet God, thank you for bringing us help!”

The doctor had already half attached a respirator to Surev’s face to breathe for him, and he massaged the baby’s side gently, attempting to jump-start his tiny Vulcan heart. I held my breath again, focusing all my heart and thoughts on connecting with my son, in case we did share some kind of bond. I wanted him to feel my presence and comfort, even though he was no longer inside me, no longer enveloped by my warmth.

Suddenly, we were surrounded by numerous shimmers of light, as Spock and the others rematerialized around us. Spock dropped down to my side, his eyes instantly finding his son.

Spock bent over Surev’s body, still cradled in the doctor’s arms, and placed his fingers over the baby’s meld points. He closed his eyes and spoke soft Vulcan words, reaching out through their bond. Apparently the others had finally believed us, and Spock managed to regain control of his emotions, his face now concentrated and stoic, as he reached out to Surev. With weapons no longer trained on him, Spock could help give Surev a fighting chance to survive now.

“What are you doing?” The doctor gruffly demanded, reaching to swat Spock’s fingers away from the baby’s face.

“Stop! Don’t touch him,” I insisted as emphatically as my whisper could. “He's speaking with the baby through their bond. Stop constantly interfering with my husband.” I grabbed the doctor's wrist to hold him back, allowing Spock freedom to move as needed in bringing our child to consciousness.

“Their bond? What the hell are you talking about?” The doctor spoke gruffly, but continued his gentle heart massage.

I ignored the doctor’s question and reached over to take Surev’s tiny hand in mine, closing my eyes and praying silently, willing him to life and consciousness. I also pushed peace and comfort to my husband through our bond, trying to lend him strength that I hardly had myself.

And then, suddenly, Surev’s body jerked and stiffened, and he screamed! Loudly! Angrily!

It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard in my life. I was drenched with waves of relief and joy, watching his little face scrunch up and turn green, intense and so cute. I trembled with relief, sobbing at the sight of my son breathing, his tiny arms and legs flailing.

Spock removed his fingers from Surev’s face, turning away to sit back, and promptly fell to the floor, unconscious. I grabbed at Spock's hand and looked back at the doctor. "My husband is exhausted. Can someone help him too?" The doctor was scanning Surev continuously, so he motioned for another medic to attend to Spock.

“Let’s get these people down to treatment lab. They’ve been stuck on that planet for a long time, by the look of things. All three of them need checked more thoroughly. And somebody get them into sterile gowns.” I was sure the clothing I had made for us looked very strange to them.

The ones who had beamed back up with Spock took their cue from the doctor and jumped into action, covering us with sheets and transferring us to portable cots to move us to another part of the ship.

As we hovered down the corridor, I whispered, “Doctor!” and tugged on his sleeve. The physician bent down to hear me.

“Doctor, thank you for saving our son’s life. Thank you with all my heart. Is he going to be alright?”

“Ma’am, I’m Doctor Quinton. Sorry there was no time before for introductions. Yes, my scans indicate your son is surprisingly healthy under the circumstances. It appears he was doing very well until the problem with the cord stricture.”

“I’m Anne and my husband is Spock. We’ve been stranded down there for over a year. Thank you for rescuing us! Where are you from?”

“Nice to meet you. You’re human. What species is your husband? I need to know more about his physiology before I can treat him properly.”

“He is Vulcan. You don't know of Vulcans?”

“No, we haven’t encountered a Vulcan before. We’re a mining ship from Eta Atheni 2. We'd been researching the planet for some unusual minerals when we picked up your lifeform readings.

“Of course we had no idea why you were there, but you seemed to be doing well down on planet, so we figured you might be mining yourselves. You had a permanent structure and were pretty active, so we were strictly going to monitor you. We had no intention of making contact until we saw that…that Vulcan…was going to butcher you. That was reason enough to intervene,” the doctor explained.

“So had we not had a problem delivering the baby, you wouldn't have made contact with us at all? You wouldn't have rescued us?” I was astonished. “Didn't you intercept our distress signal?”

“Well, your signal said you were with the Federation. We try to steer clear of them. Our home planet wishes to remain neutral and independent. And again, you seemed fine.”

“That’s amazing. Our medical crisis turns out to be a blessing in disguise, then. I am completely in awe of how God works.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, ma'am. What I do know is, you’re here and alive, as is your child and your husband. And we’ll do some patch-up repair on you both. My scans show you've both been through quite an ordeal and suffered some catastrophic injuries in the recent past.”

“We crash landed on the planet. We treated ourselves as best we could with what was in our emergency kits.”

“That's damned amazing you were able to treat each other as well as you did without the surgery you obviously both needed, especially with the severe damage to your husband's arm.”

“How is my husband?” I lifted my head to see him several feet away, being moved on his own cot ahead of me.

“My assistant is taking care of him. He seems fine, except for stress and exhaustion and his past injuries that haven’t healed as well as they needed.”

“Do you know of the USS Enterprise, the Federation Starfleet ship?” I asked.

“Who hasn’t heard of the Enterprise? Sure.”

“That’s our ship. I need to communicate with them so they know we’re alive. And we need to arrange transport to the closest starbase so we can get back to the Enterprise, wherever it is right now.”

“Oh, ma’am, you don't know. The Enterprise was almost destroyed about six months ago, your calendar. The surviving crewmembers are on Yorktown, and the ship's been in dock ever since for rebuild.”

“Six months ago?” That didn’t make sense to me at all. “I need to reach Captain Kirk on Yorktown then. Can you make that happen?”

“As soon as I finish checking you over here, I’ll get Captain Chandler and you can talk with him about it. He’s the one who gave the orders down on the planet.”

“Thank you, Doctor Quinton. How soon do you think my husband will regain consciousness?” We had arrived at their treatment facility and were being relocated onto medical beds, where monitors were being recalibrated for our physiologies.

Doctor Quinton nodded toward his assistant, who answered, “The patient has stabilized enough for us to administer medication to wake him. We've already treated him with nutrient and hydration hypos. And Doctor, his scans show that Valderol should be safe for his genetics.”

“Administer three units and bring his bed over here by his wife’s.” The doctor then called to another assistant who was attending to Surev’s needs. “And Turner, bring the baby over here to his parents.”

My heart jumped to finally be able to hold my son. All of his tubes had been removed, and he had been cleaned and diapered and swaddled in a gorgeous fluffy green blanket. As Turner laid him in my arms, Surev stirred only slightly, making quiet squeeky noises, having been lulled to sleep by his comfortable new surroundings. He had long black lashes, a head full of black silky hair just like his father's, and he definitely had Spock’s cute nose, eyes, and ears.

He had my chin and full lips, which were presently making slight sucking motions.

_“Cute, my wife? You are saying I have a ‘cute’ nose?”_

Spock was awake now and turned to look adoringly into my eyes, obviously relieved beyond belief. I couldn’t even imagine what he had just gone through, having to face killing me to save Surev, and his relief at seeing the doctor arrive out of nowhere at the exact second needed. Spock was only communicating through our bond for now. I knew he was going to be okay if he was already teasing me.

_“I believe, commander, I have spent most of a year convincing you how very cute you are. And I just gave you a son. I shall be calling you cute as often as I wish from now on."_

Spock’s ensuing smile was glorious…breathtakingly glorious. _“How is Surev now? When I melded with him on the transporter floor, he was stirring to consciousness.”_

_“Spock, it was incredible. He screamed, so strong and healthy! His lungs and heart are fine. He will suffer no ill effects from the labor. Baby, I love you. So much. And we have this beautiful miracle. We've made it through this ordeal alive, all three of us. We're going to be okay.”_

_“Anne, I could not fathom how I was going to put a cutting tool to your body and take your life. I have new-found respect for Doctor McCoy, that he performs medical procedures such as this on a routine basis.”_

I suddenly realized how much Spock's ordeal was like the biblical story of Abraham and his son, Isaac. _“I agree, Anne. I had considered that idea myself,"_ Spock added, nodding.

_"Baby, I can hardly believe it. It's finally over. We're rescued!"_ My spirit was subdued from exhaustion, but exhilarated with the prospect of going home. _"I don't know details, but the Enterprise was not destroyed when we were abandoned. It was badly damaged in an attack six months ago, according to Doctor Quinton, but everyone is on Yorktown now, where the Enterprise is docked for repairs. Captain Chandler, the commander here, will come soon to talk to us, and we can arrange to get back home.”_

Spock reached to take my hand, and both my controlled Vulcan and I were tearing, as I held Surev close to my heart. Spock only tore his eyes away from mine to study our newborn.

“Are you ready to hold him?” I asked my beautiful husband. Spock nodded, wonder gleaming in his eyes. He slowly turned his legs to the side of his bed to sit up, and then he reached toward me. My heart was bursting with joy as I placed Surev in his father’s arms for the very first time, pushing all my joy through our bond. Spock perceived more than just my happiness, though.

_“Really, Anne? You want to change the baby’s name now?”_

“I do. This is such an unbelievable moment in our lives. I'd like for his name to daily remind us and our son of this miracle—to be treasured and honored so we never forget how this feels right now.” Without equal, this was the happiest day of my entire life.

“Ashaya, with your permission, I would like to introduce you to your newborn son, Surev Quinton Chandler S’chn T’gai.”

  
[](https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vJLARvBek9g/XLVL0i-BT9I/AAAAAAAACpE/vtsXO7QcFAsCnY7a7SWESxdzBn-f03WmQCLcBGAs/s1600/tumblr_pq18rjyHe21v3h8yso1_540.png)  
  


  



	18. Dreamcatcher

"Sorry, folks, but not gonna happen."

Chandler was explaining why we couldn't communicate with Captain Kirk or anyone on Yorktown or any Federation holdings, period, from his ship. It turned out when it came right down to it, Chandler was a pirate, his crew were pirates (yes, even the good doctor, because pirates were not immune to injury or disease even in the twenty-third century), and his ship, _The Golden Knave_ , was a pirate ship. I was thinking if I took a short space walk, I'd see a huge skull and crossbones painted on the hull, probably about where our 1701 designation was located.

"We won't be having any dealings with your Federation or fucking Starfleet, not even for you fine people," Chandler assured us in no uncertain terms. "Best we can do is beam you down at the nearest Starfleet outpost, and from there you're on your own. I'm sure they can get you in touch with your precious Feds easy enough. But we won't be having any part of that. And by the time you can tell them about us, we'll be in the next quadrant. You can have your radiation burst planet. There's nothing there worth scavenging, anyway."

"Captain, we are very grateful for the help you have given us and for saving my family's lives," Spock acknowledged. We were, after all, at their mercy. "We will be amendable to you depositing us at any outpost you choose. As you can imagine, we are anxious to see home again as quickly as possible." Spock addressed the captain logically. I, of course, was ready to throw myself at his feet and beg to get home now. Yesterday, even.

"By the way, you guys didn't have to name your son after us," Chandler deadpanned. "We're no heroes, and we're for sure not the naming-after type."

"Speak for yourself, Cap," the doctor growled. "I think 'Quinton' is the perfect name for that little tyke. After all, it's served me well many a year." The doctor was amazingly like our own Doctor McCoy in the way he spoke. I was beginning to think it was a prerequisite for all space physicians to be somewhat acerbic curmudgeons.

"We're very pleased with both your names, Captain," I smiled. "We owe you a debt we could never repay. And thank you for giving us these uniforms to wear and the makeshift diapers for Surev." Normal cloth against my skin was an exquisite luxury now. I'd never take my uniform for granted again.

"Just glad we could help," the doctor chimed in. "Sorry we didn't know sooner that you were genuinely stranded and in danger, and it wasn't just some trap to capture our ship and crew. We could have saved you quite a bit of pain. And speaking of which, how do you both feel now that I was able to do some work on those old injuries and scars?"

"I definitely feel better. Thank you so much." I hadn't even realized how badly my body was affected and restrained by my crash injuries, even though Spock had done an amazing job repairing me under the circumstances.

"I, too, observe that my body is functioning more efficiently. I also thank you, Doctor."

"Just don't be crashing any more shuttles in the near future, okay? I'm pretty protective of my handiwork."

"By the way, Captain Chandler, how is it that you and your crew all speak Standard? And even sprinkled with Earth colloquialisms?" I had been wondering that from the first moment the captain spoke down on the planet.

"Well, we won't be sharing all our secrets with you, ma'am. Suffice it to say, we've had some encounters with Terrans over the years. But that's about all I'll be telling you." Chandler was a chatty and friendly pirate, but a pirate, still.

"We can actually get you to Outpost 8 in about ten standard hours. I thought you might like to gather your belongings down on the planet and have them beamed up to take with you," the captain offered. "And then, I know you need some sleep."

The thought of going back down to M547 was almost nauseating to me. So far, these pirates had given us no reason not to trust them, but I realized at this point, I didn't completely trust anyone present but Spock. For me, there was nothing down there I needed, except the beautiful cradle Spock had built for Surev. Spock, however, always logical, respected the importance of recovering our equipment, our tricorder and our PADDs, which held all our recorded planet research. He also reminded me he needed to disable the distress beacon, so no passing ship would waste time or be endangered trying to find an already rescued crew.

I was sure sometime in the future, after we were settled back into our positions on the Enterprise, I would be able to relax and just breathe regarding the planet and our little settlement, and I'd probably even eventually feel an emotional attachment to it. But right now, our situation remained too tentative to feel anything but apprehensive and protective of my family.

Spock beamed down with a couple of Chandler's men and was back in no time with our salvageable equipment, a few personal belongings, and of course, the cradle. As soon as everyone was secured back on board, we left M547 orbit for the last time and headed to Outpost 8 at warp factor six.

I could hardly contain my excitement and ache to reach Federation territory. I longed to hear my captain's commanding voice again, as I knew his first officer did also, and to spend time showing off our new son to our Enterprise friends. I was ready for a normal life again.

I didn't know if Starfleet would even let me serve on the Enterprise with a baby. But there was no way I was leaving Surev with someone else, for me to go explore the universe. Surev _was_ my universe, as was my brilliant husband. But there also was no question that Spock's place was at his captain's side, and always would be. I was glad that no matter what, there would be time for us to travel to Vulcan for an official bonding ceremony, which would make it so much easier to handle my husband being gone with the Enterprise after everyone returned to active duty status. I would never hold Spock back from his dreams, and if our son and I couldn't be on the Enterprise with him, we would meet Spock for every shore leave or for every spaceport layover possible.

We would work it all out, I had no uncertainty. I trusted my husband implicitly to devise a logical solution. Nothing of the past year had been planned. We had no idea this would be our lives,  our future. And yet, the greatest miracles I'd ever seen occurred with Spock down on the planet. We had overcome every obstacle and now, Spock holding Surev as we gazed out _The Golden Knave's_ observation bay, I was the happiest I had ever been in my life, every dream I'd ever had now totally fulfilled.

Except for our new dream, of course—to get back to the Enterprise.

Ten hours later, as promised, we arrived at Outpost 8, which was barely given time to note our arrival. The _Knave_ had scanned and located five lifeforms in their main structure, which Chandler determined would be a safe beam-down point. The outpost only received a short message that three were beaming down immediately, along with equipment. That was the only warning the pirates were willing to give.

A last round of thank yous and handshakes and hugs, and tiny kisses on Surev's cheek by his honorary godfathers/namesakes, and we disappeared in a shimmer of light from the ship where our lives were saved, to rematerialize in Outpost 8's control center.

There were three Humans and two Andorians manning the outpost, and they were curious to say the least. But for me, seeing these friendly Starfleet faces after all this time made me lightheaded. 

"Well, this is an unexpected pleasure. I'm Commander Driscoll Colby and this is my wife, Lieutenant Crystal Colby. This is Lieutenant Ch'aryress,  cook Russell, and our engineer, Lieutenant Zh'vyris." We shook hands with each as we in turn introduced ourselves.

"Now, what the hell are you people doing here? You just suddenly show up out of the black?"

"Commander, we are assigned to the USS Enterprise," Spock advised. "We crash-landed on planet M547 over a year ago and have been marooned with no communication capabilities  with the Enterprise or with Starfleet in all that time. We request to first contact our captain to report our status and to make plans for returning home. And then we will gladly share our story with you."

"Certainly, right over here is our monitor, Commander Spock. Have at it. Meanwhile, can we get you anything right now?"

"Not at this time," I answered. "We just want to call home as soon as possible." I was practically trembling with anticipation and excitement to schedule our transport to Yorktown—so much so that Surev, sleeping in my arms, was starting to fuss with the disturbance.

"Well, let me know and we'll get you set up here comfortably in the meantime. Oh, and let me know the the details as soon as your plans are set."

Spock sat at the computer and called up Yorktown, requesting priority one direct communication with Captain Kirk. After entering our passcode, the connection was confirmed within subspace minutes, and shortly thereafter, Captain Kirk appeared onscreen, his features a contorted combination of grief and hot anger.

"Captain, it is I, Spock, along with Lieutenant Saunders. We are alive and on Outpost 8."

"I don't know who the fuck you are, or what kind of a sick prank this is, but I don't appreciate it, mister. Get off my com and don't call me again or I'll have you arrested!"


	19. Dreams Awake

“Wait, Jim! Test me! I can prove I am Spock. Ask me anything to which only you and I would know the answer.”

Kirk intended to slam the channel link button off but caught himself just in time when he heard the word “test.”

“Alright, whoever you are. I’ll play your game for _one_ question. But you can be sure I am monitoring your location and hailing Commander Colby there to arrest you immediately if you hesitate even for a second to answer me truthfully.”

The captain’s face was bitter and fierce, definitely aged more than I would expect in only one year, creased presumably from grief at the loss of the mission team a year ago plus whatever disaster his crew had faced six months ago that almost destroyed the Enterprise. With a tiny, sardonic upturn of his lips, Kirk obviously believed he’d nail this bastard impostor in no time.

We could hear Jim’s instructions to Commander Colby to get back STAT to where Spock sat now, with phaser drawn and ready to arrest Spock at Kirk’s command. We turned as we heard the door swish open, Colby and his officers following Kirk’s orders implicitly.

The captain smirked, his damning question designed to expose this cruel fraud instantly and irrefutably.

“Exactly how many chess games have I beat you?”

“Exactly one thousand, eight hundred, twenty-six, though due to your staunch refusal to concede number seven hundred fifty-two, we continue an ongoing dispute. And number one thousand, three hundred, fifty-seven was abandoned when we were interrupted by a surprise Romulan attack, resulting in our broken pieces being flung all over your quarters.” Spock answered the question immediately and precisely, without hesitation.

Spock finally took a breath and almost whispering, added, "Before I left on the shuttlecraft, you mentioned to me in the lift that we still had a game to finish upon my return.”

The confirmation was immediate and conclusive, played out across Kirk’s face. He first ashened with shock, his cynical sneer replaced by horror. They watched Kirk grab the console, unsuccessfully trying to steady himself. His chair scooted backward out from under him as he blindly slid forward to the ground. As Kirk’s eyes started to roll up in his head, he flailed against his com button, weakly calling out “Securi…” before his head hit the floor.

Commander Colby lowered his weapon and gazed at the monitor with us, while Spock cried out, “Jim! Jim, can you hear me,” attempting to rouse the captain back to consciousness.

We watched as a full security team rushed into Kirk’s quarters, phasers drawn; the team leader bending down to Kirk’s side, searching for the pulse in the captain's neck and then attempting to jostle him back to consciousness.

“Security! This is Commander Colby of Outpost 8,” Colby called out to the team from Kirk’s monitor. “Captain Kirk has just received shocking news from here and has passed out. No one has injured him. There is no security threat. Inform medical to get a doctor there stat.”

We watched the team leader com for a doctor, and it was no more than two minutes before Doctor McCoy burst through the door, dropping to Jim’s side.

“What the hell is going on here? What happened to the captain,” McCoy brusquely demanded, glaring up at the team.

“Doctor,” Colby called out from the monitor. “I’m Commander Colby on Outpost 8. Captain Kirk has just learned that Commander Spock and his wife and son are alive. Apparently the captain had believed they were lost or dead?”

Spock had not left his position before the camera, and Colby moved back to allow Spock’s face alone to fill the screen. McCoy looked toward the monitor and stared hard, as outrage washed over his face.

“Spock _is_ dead," McCoy growled. "Who the hell is that?” McCoy’s eyes were now pure fire and brimstone.

“Leonard, I have confirmed with Jim that I am indeed Spock, not an impostor. The Enterprise was somehow misinformed of my demise. Our team was gravely injured on M547, but Lieutenant Saunders and I survived. We have been unable to contact the Enterprise and were left behind on the planet for over an Earth year.”

“Spock? Spock, can that really be you?” Bones whispered, his eyebrows furrowed, his head absently shaking back and forth.

“Yes, Doctor. I do not know why the captain believed us dead. But Anne and I are here on Outpost 8, and we request immediate transport to Yorktown to join with you and the captain and the other crewmembers.”

“My……God, man. How is this possible?” The doctor muttered, still staring at Spock. Then suddenly, McCoy remembered he had actually been called to treat Jim. The captain was now stirring, regaining consciousness, mumbling something about his first officer.

“Take it easy, Jim. Can you sit up? It's okay. Spock’s alive. I don’t know how, but he really is.” Bones took out his medscan and hovered it over Jim’s body. “You’re not injured, just received quite a jolt there.” McCoy helped Jim back up into his chair. 

“Spock. It’s really you.” Jim returned his gaze to the familiar Vulcan face in the monitor. “But we were assured by the recovery team that you didn't survive. I… _knew_ you were dead.

"Their report stated you were all killed by radiation on the planet. The team officially confirmed that what little DNA remained of your charred bodies was the Galileo team and that it was too dangerous to attempt recovery of the remains. They returned to the ship, and we were given orders to continue on to our next mission after the funeral. Oh my God, Spock. We had a funeral. Then we left and M547 was reclassified as quarantined, all travel there prohibited."

“Captain, our communicators were working properly, and we signaled the Enterprise many times, never receiving any reply other than static. Our repeated attempts at contact proved futile. Were your communications down?”

“Not at all, Spock. Everything on the ship was functioning properly. That means somehow your communications must have been jammed. But...by whom? How? Scanners showed nobody else within a million kilometer range of M547. If you were jammed without detection...that's technology Starfleet doesn't even know exists.

"But no, the Enterprise was not affected at all by the planet’s radiation bursts.” Jim’s face suddenly darkened, as realization punched him in the gut.

“Lieutenant Samuels,” Jim barked at the security team leader, still guarding the captain, but out of view. “Put all of Yorktown on security Red Alert immediately! Lock her down completely. Nobody in or out. And get me Lieutenant Commander Scott, now!”

We watched as Samuels followed the captain’s orders, and I couldn't keep from smiling as my boss's voice filled the air.

“Aye, Captain. Scott here.”

“Scotty, we need to locate and apprehend Lieutenants Pierce, De Campo, Grey, and Nasato. Throw them in separate cells till I get there for questioning. They are obviously armed but I just learned how dangerous they really are. Have them arrested on charges of attempted murder.”

“Aye, Captain. We’ll put our best men on it.” Scotty replied proudly. We heard him com his second in command of Enterprise security, relaying Captain Kirk’s orders. When he finished, Scotty added, “Who did they try to kill, sir?”

“Scotty—they falsified their report on M547. Spock is alive.” The captain's voice shook with barely restrained furor.

I heard Scotty let out a string of obscenities I'd _never_ heard him use, no matter how much stress we were under in engineering.

Scott added, “What the devil! I’ll have them rounded up in no time. And sir, when we get them, let me at them. They were my team. I certified them.”

“Thanks, Scotty. But this time, I get first crack at them. You can have what’s left over. Kirk out.”

The captain then ordered a transport to Outpost 8 to pick us up, highest priority and warp factor. When the order was confirmed, Kirk snapped closed his communicator cover so hard it cracked. He returned his undivided attention back to Spock.

“I don’t know what to say, Commander. A grave injustice has been perpetrated on you and your crew. I...Spock..." The captain's eyes conveyed a deep brokenness. 

"Now I'm wondering about the attack on the Enterprise six months ago—whether the events are related. The four crewmen from security volunteered for rescue duty to bring your team back. That means they were still on duty here and had free access to all mission data.

"Oh my God! How could I be so oblivious? I know I was affected by the deaths of our landing party on M547, but how could I disregard such an important piece of information? I've suddenly remembered that when the Klingons attacked us and our shields were inoperable, Mr. Scott said something about sabotage. Since I didn't believe that possible, I completely dismissed any consideration of subterfuge.

"I need to interrogate them as soon as they're brought in and find out if this is some sort of conspiracy. The Klingons knew exactly where we were. They launched a cloaked attack and almost destroyed us. But I never could understand why they didn't finish us off. This may provide the answer. They had valuable spies on board.

"But I'll address that later. Spock! Are you alright? What actually happened down there on M547?”

“I am well, Jim, as is Lieutenant Saunders and our son, Surev. However, unfortunately, Lieutenants Randall, Rasulov, and Aliyev were killed instantly by the unexpected radiation blast. The RM levels were well beyond the parameters of our bio-suit rating. When Anne and I reached the Galileo, we launched in attempt to leave the vicinity of the heaviest concentration. But the shuttle's engines and thrusters were overcome and crashed mere miles away. We were seriously injured but survived.”

“Back up, Spock. Your _son_? Did you say, ‘our son'?”

“Yes, Jim. As almost eight years ago you arranged to return me to Vulcan after you learned of my biology, my time fell upon me again approximately nine months ago. It is a complicated story, Captain, but as it turns out, I had developed emotions for Lieutenant Saunders, as she had for me. She agreed to be my mate and to bond with me, consequentially saving my life. And from that bonding, we have our son.”

“Well, let me see him. See _them_. “

I stepped up to the monitor and pulled Surev’s blanket back so the captain could see his angelic face. “Hello, captain. Sir, I cannot tell you how glad Spock and I are to see you and learn you are alive. We had spent the entire year afraid the Enterprise and all the crew were lost when we could not reach you.

“This is our son, Surev Quinton Chandler S’chn T’gai. He was named in honor of the commander and doctor from the ship, _The Golden Knave_ , who rescued us from the planet and saved our baby's life."

“Lieutenant Saunders," the captain said, "your relief is matched only by mine. It is as though you have come back from the dead. I…I can’t believe you have a son. Surev is beautiful, just as his parents are. Is he okay? Healthy? Have you three received adequate medical attention? We'll have Dr. McCoy with an emergency team standing by when you arrive here at Yorktown.”

“We're fine now, Captain," I assured him. "But we've been through a lot—very intense at times. We have a very long and detailed report for you to read when we return."

“I can promise you both this," Kirk snarled. "By the time you get here, the ones who falsified their report and caused us to abandon you both will be in custody and held on charges. If this turns out to be the far-reaching plot I suspect, these guys are responsible for the death of 47 good crewmembers in that Klingon attack on the ship, in addition to the three members of your landing party. Our ship was almost irreparably damaged, and we're fortunate any of us made it out alive."

"Captain,” I asked, “Are Uhura, Christine, and Janice okay?”

“Yes, they made it out alive with some injuries. We’ll update you on details as soon as you get here. I can’t wait to read your reports. The transport has just commed me, and they’ll be there to pick you up within twelve hours. I wish we could come get you on the Enterprise, but it will be several weeks yet before she's space worthy. Let’s just get you here.”

“Captain," Spock now added, "as much as I am reluctant to end our transmission, I must. We have much to do before the transport gets here, and I must attempt to contact my parents, as Anne wishes to call hers.” Spock seemed indeed unwilling to let go of the captain’s image. I wondered if he was feeling anything like I was—as though if we ended the transmission, we'd wake to realize our rescue was all a dream.

After further discussion, it was Captain Kirk who requested the happy duty of first informing our families of our survival, as it had been his mournful burden a year ago to inform them of our deaths. The captain believed that seeing his face first now, rather than ours, might ease the shock to our families, which turned out to be a very wise decision. When we were finally able to contact our families, having been given time to process the news in their own ways, we were greeted by tears and happy faces, unlike Captain Kirk's response to the overwhelming shock.

Both sets of grandparents were ecstatic to see the live transmission of their new grandson, and baby Surev even managed to provide them with several sweet newborn baby noises, coos and hiccups, enabling them to hear his voice. I would swear I saw Sarek almost smile once before he quickly regained control.


	20. Wedding of Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [](https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rj0Gfe3cDLY/XNXp8X3lUJI/AAAAAAAACp0/gVUtG8cS0DsrCg-Ea2JfLnOvmV-zdRMFgCLcBGAs/s1600/tumblr_prb0zrvT4W1v3h8yso1_540.jpg)   
>    
> 
> 
>  
> 
> _Beautiful artwork of Spock, Anne, and Surev created by and used by special permission of amazing artist, Mylochka_  
> 

Our reunion with Enterprise crewmates on Yorktown was breathtaking and heartwarming, and tears flowed freely all around the room. Somehow, the crew had quickly thrown together a surprise baby shower/welcome back party at Starfleet headquarters, complete with tables piled high with beautifully wrapped gifts, a buffet of delicious foods we had not experienced in over a year, and balloons and banners and decorations hung everywhere. As I peered around the room at the growing crowd, almost everyone we knew had been able to attend.

I had first been enveloped by the giddy squeals of Janice and Christine and Uhura. We rushed to each other and embraced with wild exuberance, crying and laughing so much at the same time it made my face hurt.

But as soon as Captain Kirk entered the chamber, all eyes were drawn to the poignant reunion between Spock and his captain, as neither man bothered hiding the depth of their mutual regard. It was obvious the captain had been profoundly affected by his first officer's supposed death. Even now, Kirk's eyes, glistening with tears, looked haunted as though he couldn't really believe Spock was here, standing in front of him.

This past year had changed Spock in ways I suspected even he did not realize yet. I watched as my husband not only allowed himself to be drawn into a full-body hug by Kirk but also responded himself with arms wrapped around his best friend. The moment felt so private that I suddenly felt like an intruder. Perhaps we should have arranged for the two men to meet privately first. After all, Kirk had fainted at the shock of learning his first officer was not dead. I felt guilty for not thinking of it sooner. But then again, the party was a surprise we didn't expect, and we had been ushered in here as soon as our transport docked.

As they backed away from their embrace, Spock turned and allowed the approaching bridge officers and crew, including Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy, to also embrace him. Spock's very real affection for his colleagues, who had been genuinely devastated by his loss, was only minimally contained. Perhaps it was because since we bonded, Spock and I had expressed every emotional experience freely, as there was no one anywhere near us to judge him for it. And now, after the stress and hardships of this past year, Spock seemed to understand his colleagues could not completely convince themselves that this truly was their Spock, returned to them alive, unless they could somehow touch him. Though Vulcan was his home, I sensed through our bond that Spock accepted these people now as family, as they were finally accepting him.

The sparkles in my girlfriends’ eyes were worth everything to me. I thought they would never stop hugging me. And then, of course, they made over Surev, passing him around, enfolding him as though he were the most precious thing that ever existed.

I knew with absolute certainty my son was the most precious thing ever. And his amazing father was a very close second. How did I ever get so lucky? God had given me everything I could ever want.

Of course, the girls had a million questions for me and now, thanks to Captain Chandler and Doctor Quinton, there would be plenty of time to share every beautiful, scary detail with them, eventually.

I sat back and watched Uhura, Christine, and Janice make kissy, cooing faces at Surev, introducing themselves as his aunts, counting his fingers and toes, inspecting his darling pointed ears, and fighting over who got to babysit first. Our son was a very blessed little boy, to be conceived in so much love and now surrounded by adoring friends who would always do their best to keep him safe and secure, after the almost fatal turmoil surrounding his birth.

I thought my heart would burst with joy and love as I watched. I tried to memorize everything and everyone I saw as I once more gazed longingly around the room. Our marital bond buzzed with energy, as Spock turned to meet my eyes. The look he gave me from across the room was one of pure love. We were saved. We were safe. And even when we had no one else, and now when we finally had everyone else, we were filled with peace that we would always have each other.

\---------<><><><><>\---------

The admiralty bent over backward to make it up to us for the time we were marooned. Our abandonment had proven to be a PR nightmare for the Federation—made even worse by the details surrounding Surev's birth, which had been leaked to the Terran press by an unnamed source. (I was guessing that source coincidentally had the same name as our son.)

The Federation, and Starfleet in particular, had so easily been deceived by the four traitors implanted on the Enterprise as crewmen. The Klingon agents had conspired to perpetrate an elaborate hoax preventing the Federation from discovering the rich crystal deposits plentifully spread all over M547; crystals that when refined and concentrated became an efficient, highly potent fuel source that soon would compete with dilithium crystals as the energy of the future.

As it turned out, it was the Klingons who had planted the pulsating radiation bursts, thus attempting to ward off any others who would by chance discover and try to subvert their claim to the priceless resource. By luring the Enterprise to send an exploration team and then arranging for their gruesome deaths, they had ensured the Federation would quarantine M547 from all traffic, virtually guaranteeing there would be no one to interfere with the Klingons' secret mining operations.

Spock and I were given special dispensation, allowing Surev to remain with me on the Enterprise, thus opening the door to further discussion regarding families living on starships along with their serving family members.

I was awarded meritorious promotion to Lieutenant Commander serving in engineering.

Spock was offered a captaincy which he refused, choosing to remain in service on the Enterprise, at Kirk’s side.

Were it not for history being made by this policy change, I would not have stayed on the Enterprise, especially after seeing how damaged she was during the Klingon attack. Spock and I had planned for Surev and myself to live with his parents on Vulcan, where I would work with young people in their Youth Ambassadorial Program.

But there would still be time for me to learn a few more languages while serving Starfleet, in preparation of our probable future life in diplomatic service. Spock had always planned to join Ambassador Sarek's entourage after his assignment to deep space exploration ended.

\---------<><><><><>\---------

Following the Enterprise’s relaunch, our first mission was the Federation's gift to Spock and me. We were on our way to Vulcan for our official bonding ceremony, officiated by the family elder, T’Pau—the same matriarch who had overseen the debacle of Spock's first such ceremony with his former fiancée, T’Pring, which I had finally learned all about.

I now realized I owed my present happiness to T’Pring: had she not declared Kal-if-fee at their ceremony, Spock would not be my bondmate now.

Our closest friends from the bridge crew and engineering were going to stand with us at both our ceremony on Vulcan and at our Terran wedding, which Captain Kirk would officiate back on the Enterprise afterward. Uhura, Christine, and Janice were handling everything, including decorations and music, and had become obsessed with finding the perfect wedding dress for both ceremonies. I had casually mentioned how Spock and I originally planned a simple, intimate moonlit wedding on the shore of our lake, just the two of us, which had never happened after I panicked upon learning I was pregnant.

So of course, they took it upon themselves three months earlier, when we started planning the ceremonies, to create the perfect fairy-tale gown for the wedding of my dreams. Those in engineering who had kidded me so relentlessly before, were now the happiest of all that the girl who made goo-goo eyes over her first officer was not only ending up as his wife, but was living a happily-ever-after dream come true, after almost sacrificing her life to save her son.

This trip was such a generous gift that I was beginning to wonder if the Federation had offered it in fear that Spock and I would publicly lay blame for our abandonment and potential demise at their door. However, we were in no way interested in the political intrigue of it all. We knew the Klingons and the traitorous security team were solely to blame for our predicament on M547. Starfleet was only guilty of their lack of adequate anti-espionage units, a problem they were swiftly addressing.

Right now, it was time for Spock and me to focus only on our love and devotion, and our new little family.

As the ceremony began on Mount Seleya, we approached T’Pau, who was regally adorned in liturgical robes. Spock held a squirming three-month-old Surev who was dressed in a small white satin robe, while my husband wore ornate black familial ceremonial robes. The two of them were so beautiful my heart ached with love, as I wrapped my hand around Spock's arm. The girls and I had chosen a simple champagne satin sleeveless, floor length gown with train for me, more in the style of my Earth ancestors. My hair was simply styled, wavy and loose, with a wreath of tiny multi-colored flowers encircling my head, lace veil trailing down my back.  My parents stood to the side, along with Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda, Spock’s parents, and the combined radiance on their faces would have outshone any star.

As T’Pau began the traditional Vulcan bonding words, Spock placed Surev in Sarek’s arms and then joined hands with me as we knelt at her feet, close enough she could touch our faces. This would allow our bond to flow through her and be confirmed and officially sanctioned. She repeated the ancient words, pronouncing, “This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way.”

It was instantly glorious! The light of Spock’s love and mind filled me with indescribable joy, and by the look on my bondmate’s face, I could see he was experiencing the same emotions from me. We had already shared a preliminary bond, begun on M547, but this completed bond was more like fireworks exploding across the sky.

I suddenly fully understood why so many couples, after their ceremony was completed, would go to the bonding tent and make love for hours and hours. I was filled with a love and urgent hunger for my husband that, in spite of our many previous deep and fulfilling intimacies, were far beyond any I had felt before. Our enhanced, completed bond practically demanded an immediate joining of our bodies.

We had perhaps unwisely chosen to forego the immediate claiming, as now I regretted that decision, my soul aching to share my passion with my love, our fingers touching each other’s faces, our bodies melding as one. The love and arousal were almost more than my body and heart could bear.

Spock, of course, knew exactly what I was feeling through our bond, as I also felt the strong stirrings of his need for me. He turned to T’Pau and bowed to her again. “T’Pau, my bondmate and I have reconsidered our prior decision, and now would ask thee permission to dismiss ourselves to the claiming chamber.”

T’Pau almost smiled. Almost. “Thy bond is strong and vibrant between thee and thy mate. Thy request is not an unusual one. However, since thee did not reserve thy time, I may only grant thee one hour for the claiming.”

“That is most agreeable, T’Pau. Peace and long life.” Spock extended the ta’al to the distinguished elder. She returned his gesture, stating “Live long…and prosper, Spock, son of Sarek.”

Spock only now turned to his parents with his request. “Father…”

Sarek held up his hand to interrupt Spock. “My son, your mother and I have already invited the Saunders family to our home after your ceremony. We are quite amenable to caring for Surev for the duration of your claiming. Anne, we will take your parents to our home, where you may join us when you have completed your time. This will allow all of Surev’s grandparents more bonding time with our grandson before returning to the Enterprise for your wedding."

Sarek turned to our other guests. “Friends from the Enterprise, you are invited to our home for refreshment and respite from the heat. Please come with us.”

I was certain I owed our friends an apology, but somehow I could not tear my eyes from my husband’s. It would take all my self-control to just maintain modesty and decorum between here and the tent. Spock took my hand, and I could tell from his touch that he was as affected as I. We did not mean to do so, but we found ourselves running to the tent, shamelessly clutching at each other.

As soon as we were barely inside, Spock grabbed me and pulled me roughly to him, possessing first my mouth and then my very being. I struggled valiantly to preserve the cloth of my beautiful dress, while fighting my own urge to rip his robe from his body. I had never been so out of control and starved for my husband’s body and mind.

We were soon writhing together, lying on the mating tapestries, skin against skin, touching and being touched, as though we could not get close enough to each other. I ached for my husband to possess me in every way possible. The bond was sizzling with vibrancy, more enlivened with each passionate touch.

It was glorious! I had thought our previous joinings were as ultimate as making love could be, but somehow now, everything was fireworks and super novas. As we collapsed beside each other, our hearts raced, as we struggled to regain our breath.

Our hands searching to touch, the bond sparkled between our entwined fingers. I turned to my side and kissed my gorgeous husband again, wishing the next hours to pass quickly toward tonight, when we would again make love endlessly till the dawn.

I reached up to stroke his bangs, wet from the exertion of such energetic sex. As our eyes met in rapture, Spock pulled me tightly against his body as he whispered reverent Vulcan words of longing and endless devotion. I could barely contain this...joy. This perfection.

After we cleaned each other and refreshed, redressing in our wedding clothes, Spock was summoned by T'Pau to join her in her chambers before we departed Mt. Seleya. We looked at each other mischievously, wondering if he was to be admonished for roaring his possessiveness and release too loudly in the claiming chamber. After we kissed one more time and I saw in his eyes how much he did not want to leave me, Spock turned and accompanied T'Pau's attendant. I waited impatiently for my beautiful mate's return, though I could feel him most of the time through our bond.

When he returned, we walked to Spock’s childhood home, where our family and friends greeted us. Normally, it would be embarrassing to enter, with everyone knowing exactly what we had been doing the past hour. But I realized it just didn’t bother me now. My husband held my hand somehow more possessively than ever before, though it might have only been my imagination, as we approached the crib where a very personable and energetic Surev now lay, finally napping. Lady Amanda smiled and explained how this was the crib baby Spock had slept in for the first six months of his life. There was so much love and pride in her eyes as she spoke of her own miracle son, my bondmate. I knew she and I would be lifelong friends.

Sarek stood and spoke. “Friends, it is time to relocate to the Enterprise for the Terran wedding ceremony you have so graciously designed for my son and his mate. We will reassemble there.”

Spock and I beamed up first, to finish our personal preparations, and as soon as everyone was gathered in the observation lounge, Captain Kirk officiated our vows.

As it had been three full months since our rescue, I would have expected the captain to regain at least some of his previous bravado and lightness, now that his beloved Enterprise was relaunched with missions already awaiting us, his best friend and first officer reassigned to serve at Kirk's side. Yet that haunting wariness still lingered in his eyes. I did not understand. Perhaps after all the ceremonies were over and life settled back to normal, Spock's presence could help Kirk heal and regain his spirited, youthful vigor of command.

Afterward, we celebrated at the beautiful reception in the rec room, complete with soft music, an exquisite dinner served with candles lighting each table, and a gorgeous four-tiered wedding cake, all compliments of the bridge crew.

Spock and I, enveloped within our familial bond, rocked together slowly, holding a happy, bubbling Surev between us, as we shared our first married dance, Uhura singing a beautiful, slow love ballad she had specifically written for the occasion.

Everything was beautifully decorated, and with Spock’s arm around me and our miracle little boy in my arms, we watched across the sea of our friends as they danced and talked. This was a scene that mere weeks ago, we never believed could happen, and yet here we stood, joined by friends and family, all protected within the sanctity of our beloved ship, the Enterprise.

Rescued. Loved. Home.

The girls were thrilled to babysit Surev for the night, while Spock and I spent one gloriously beautiful wedding/bonding night in each other's arms.

.............................And then, it all came crashing down around me.

I could never have dreamed that this one glorious night of love and passion with my beloved, beautiful Vulcan would be the last such night I would ever know. My dream transformed into my own personal hell, dragging me down into a dark, shadowy, heart-crushing nightmare.

The next morning, Spock finally found the opportunity to meditate on what T'Pau had told him when she summoned him to her chamber before we had returned to the Enterprise for our wedding ceremony. He searched his mind for any evidence that her revelation was accurate, as he had never been aware of even a hint of this life-changing truth.

Spock also had not realized in time how important it would be to shield me from his discovery. Our bond forced me to learn the truth the moment he learned it himself.

And that truth ripped my beautiful, happy life to shreds.

  
[ ](https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R45jQ4JhuDA/XNYTg4f7eyI/AAAAAAAACqA/1CM2s0h0VtsxNtBHvQu8DYKQkqiizDtFQCLcBGAs/s1600/Jan.png)

_Beautiful artwork of Anne created by and used by special permission of amazing artist, Mylochka_

_Beautiful Vulcan child artwork used by special permission of amazing artist, Karracaz_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Fanart) Requiem for a Dream - Chapter Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213203) by [Mylochka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mylochka/pseuds/Mylochka)
  * [(Fanart) Requiem for a Dream - Chapter Twenty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782197) by [Mylochka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mylochka/pseuds/Mylochka)




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